Better To Die On Your Feet
by idon'tedit
Summary: Adeline Riddle was born in the muggle world to a family in disrepair, finding out that she could do magic was the best thing that had ever happened to her. Will that thought hold true when the wizarding world is turned on its head or will she be knocked off her feet by everything those changes entail?
1. Chapter 1

_**Song for this chapter: There's A Class For This by Cute Is What We Aim For**_

* * *

"Riddle, Adeline," the stern woman with her hair pulled back tightly into a bun called.

"Call me Adele," I piped up as I hurried up to put the tattered hat she held in her hand on my head.

It wasn't until the students began to titter with laughter that it occurred to me that I probably wasn't supposed to speak. None of the other students had done so anyway. Everything was so different at this school and I was struggling to adjust. Everything since this same stern woman had shown up on my doorstep to explain that I was a witch and that I was to be attending a school of witchcraft and wizardry called Hogwarts had felt so very confusing.

I felt out of place in every way possible. The other students had been raised in the world of magic, but I was raised by my father who was apparently a muggle. The other students starting their first year were eleven, but because my birthday was on the twenty-fifth of November, I started a year later. So many of the students around me looked eager to be here, excited even, but I mostly just felt depressed to have left home. My father had been devastated by the idea that I would actually leave him, and yet he seemed hell bent that I attend this special school. I was torn between the joy of learning, and just wishing I could go home, and return to school with the same students I had been in classes with for years now.

"You spend an awful lot of time in your head don't you?" a raspy male voice said and I jumped when I realized that the hat was talking to me.

"Very intellectual, and yet quite aware of those around you," the hat mused. "Keen, and observant."

"You would do well in Ravenclaw, yet you are no coward so you might also find a home in Gryffindor, but no the fit isn't quite right. It'll have to be SLYTHERIN!" the hat said, and the last bit was clearly announced to the rest of the hall as it was met with polite applause.

I slid off of my stool and turned to look at the group of students that would become my housemates for the next seven years. They didn't look particularly inviting, and they certainly seemed to be the more surly house of the four present in the hall. Was coming here a mistake? What did it mean that the hat thought I belonged with these people who looked so unkind?

* * *

It didn't take long for me to realize just how little I fit in. I stood out because I excelled in my studies, but I excelled in my studies due to copious hours studying in an effort to avoid spending time with the people in my house. My first year at Hogwarts I managed to squeak by with only the occasional foul language directed my way. It hadn't taken long for my housemates to figure out my muggle heritage, and they hated me for it. When I discovered what an issue it was going to be I tried to keep it a secret, but each time I fudged the truth about my background I could hear my father in the back of my mind whispering about the cost of secrets.

I would have hated Hogwarts if the lessons hadn't been so amazing. I loved magic, and so I threw myself at it with vigor absorbing everything I could about it. My favorite lesson by far was potions though. It reminded me so of being home with my father and cooking dinner together. I felt warm and happy while brewing potions, even if they professor was incredible dour. Professor Snape… there weren't many good words that could be used to describe him, so I often refrained from even talking about him, as if he didn't exist or something.

I wouldn't talk about him, but I lived for his lessons. I excelled in his classes, and often garnered points for our house because of it, but he was careful not to compliment me, and I often wondered if it was because of my heritage, just like everything else seemed to be.

The end of my first year had seen the end of the pure magic for me. When I had returned from school it had been to an angry father who wanted nothing to do with me after I had abandoned him. There were no warm loving nights of making dinner together, instead I frequently made dinner for him, which he ate alone at the dining table while I was expected to remain in the kitchen. I began to yearn for Hogwarts during the breaks because my home no longer felt welcoming.

My second through sixth years had been entirely uneventful. I had gone to classes and I had done well. I had watched quidditch matches, and went for walks on the grounds, but it had been as if I did not exist. Professor Snape occasionally noticed me because of my talent, and my other teachers did give me praise for good work but they did not seem to really see me. I was certain the other students actually couldn't see me.

They would run into me in the hallway as if they had seen a clear path before them, and then been quite surprised to find themselves colliding with my body. I was spared the teasing from the girls of the school because I was beneath their notice, but I was also spared the notice of any guys in the school. Perhaps it was kismet that I was more worried about my studies than about having a love life, because that certainly wasn't an option when I was something other than human. I probably should have been bored living my half-life, but school kept me occupied during the year, and attempted to please my father kept me occupied during the breaks.

I had a moment of temporary stardom after my fifth year when I set records with the highest OWL scores the school had seen in ages, but it faded as soon as Fred and George Weasley came up with their next prank. I noticed those boys once or twice, but I doubted they noticed me.

* * *

It wasn't until my seventh year that my world even seemed to have color in it. I was named head girl, and suddenly people knew who I was. I was no longer jostled in the hallway, and my teachers had smiles to share with me. Well everyone but Professor Snape. He was even more surly than ever, and though I would never say a word to anyone I suspected it had to do with the new celebrity student that had begun attending Hogwarts this year.

Harry Potter. He was beyond famous, and I had read his entire life story while I devoured books that would inform me about this new world I was joining. In my head I had imagined something far more impressive than the scrawny bespectacled snarky little git that showed up in the hallways. He was nice to other students I suppose, but he really had a hatred for Slytherins, and as I had a tendency to hang around the potions suite in the dungeons I had heard him talking back to Professor Snape on multiple occasions. One time he was so rude I was sorely tempted to go give him a piece of my mind, but I stayed at my bench in the side lab, as I was all too aware of how few students were granted the privilege Professor Snape had given to me, and I didn't want to lose it in a moment of rash behavior. My anger had passed when I heard the boy loose points for his swotty behavior.

I became so focused on my theory that a potion could be created to eradicate dragon pox all together, that many of my other lessons began to suffer. Professor Snape, as my head of house, had to pull me into his office for a discussion about this being my NEWT year, and the risk I was taking of wasting my potential by missing out on other lessons to test my potions.

"I don't see the point in attending a lesson on how to transfigure a rock into a dog," I groaned, internally kicking myself for how obnoxious I sounded. "When I could be in the lab perfection a potion that could revolutionize how a childhood illness affects so many in our community."

"It is your final year of school, you are the head girl and other students look up to you," he drawled, but I hardly heard him as I tried to formulate the rest of my argument. "You should be acting accordingly."

"But with this potion," I interrupted. "If it were administered shortly after birth, each child would be protected. They would _never_ contract dragon box. You know the fact that the wizarding world hasn't already thought of vaccines is a bit absurd."

"Miss Riddle!" he snapped, and I closed my mouth quickly, preparing for a verbal lashing. "I agree entirely that your potion is more important than learning a transfiguration spell that you will never use. But I can hardly ask you to be a potions apprentice under me should you fail to pass all of your NEWTS."

I sat in stunned silence. Had he really said that? I had not dared to dream. Even if I had begged on my hands and knees I didn't think I could attain an apprenticeship under Master Snape who had staunchly refused on student after another.

"You would like to offer me an apprenticeship?" I finally asked, my voice quiet and sounding as if it belonged to someone else entirely.

"I would," he nodded curtly. "You may find you are not interested when you discover that I would expect at least six years of study as you would leave my tutelage a true master. But you shall not even have the option to decline my offer if you do not pass your NEWTS."

"Transfiguration just became my second favorite lesson," I chirped before checking my watch. "In fact I need to be getting to one of those lessons right away. I won't let you down Professor Snape."

"Oh don't you turn into some sort of puppy now," he called after me sarcastically, though it sounded like he almost wanted to laugh.

I hurried through the halls to get to my lesson on time, and it wasn't until I got to Professor McGonagall's classroom that I began to wonder if this had been a real offer. I would work towards it as if it were, but Professor Snape was a Slytherin as well and I wouldn't put it beyond him to manipulate me into doing well with no intention of actually giving me what I coveted most.

The year seemed to go so much slower when I was actually attending all of my lessons. Attending them, and actually fully focusing my attention on them. I seriously wondered about my mental stability when I was looking for moment in the corridor or at the breakfast table to jot down notes on my potion ideas, when the other girls my age were talking about boys or if they were particularly mature where they'd like to work when they leave.

* * *

"I admire your enthusiasm, but your apprenticeship will not be starting until the fall," Professor Snape said when he exited his chambers with suitcase in hand to find me standing in the corridor waiting for him.

"Oh, I misunderstood," I said in my most composed voice, hoping he didn't realize how devastated I was at this revelation.

"You may use owl post to correspond with me on theories about your Dragon Pox Vaccine if you so wish," he said in a voice that was clearly meant to show his annoyance, but his face was soft enough that it felt more like he was taking pity on me.

I decide not to tell him that I've already finished that potion, but I don't want to give up the opportunity to write to a man I have come to view as my mentor about the subject he had mastered.

"May I write you about other theories and ideas as well?" I ask, trying and failing not to sound eager.

"You may," he concedes with a smirk. "But the second I read a letter about something juvenile and idiotic I will hex your owl."

"Might I perhaps get my most idiotic question out of the way right now then," I asked with a chuckle, hoping his relatively good mood might get me an actual answer about the rumors that had been flying around at the end of the school year.

"Just the one, and make it brief," he groaned, but he held his ground waiting for my question.

"With all of the rumors going around this year it's difficult to tell fact from fiction of course," I said quietly. "But I wanted to ask if I am supposed to believe that Potter and friends actually broke through one of your potion puzzles in his efforts to get to the stone?"

"It was a fairly simple puzzle honestly if one has common sense," he said, his voice growing deeper in obvious annoyance. "But I don't think for a minute Miss Granger actually solved the puzzle, I think she was smart enough to figure out that the answer was obviously the bottle that had already been drunk from, and was likely not even sitting in line with the other potions as Quirrell had already pulled it from the line up to drink from it."

"That is not nearly as courageous as it was made to seem," I said quietly a funny bubbling starting in my stomach.

"No perhaps not," he answered soberly. "But neither is the assumption that my riddle was difficult wise. You could have solved it within seconds by simply smelling the potions and ferretting out which ones were poison, which ones were wine, and which ones you actually needed. Assuming you didn't have the help of someone pulling the proper potion out of line anyway."

"Perhaps I shall research how to alter the smell of potions over the summer," I said with a smile before I walked away, trying to decipher if I actually disliked the three little Gryffindors or not.

"Have a good holiday Miss Riddle," he called after me, and in my mind I pictured him smiling even though I knew he wouldn't be.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Song for this chapter: Hope For Every Fallen Man by Relient K**_

* * *

I hated to return to Great Hangleton, and to my father that appeared to no longer love me. He had doted upon me as a child, always telling me stories and sharing riddles, but after I left him to go to wizarding school he soured toward me. Each year it grew more pronounced until he stopped talking to me all together. I missed the days of conspiratorial whispers.

"Secrets, secrets what's cost," he used to whisper to me when I was hiding something.

"Secrets, secrets all is lost." He would tell me when he'd caught me lying about sneaking a cookie or some other silly crime.

Now he seemed full of secrets, none of which he wanted to share with me. Whenever I did see him it was after he'd spent quite some time down at the pub, and he never had anything nice to say to me then. I had promised myself I could come back and spend the holiday with him before getting my own flat, as an assurance to him that I would not abandon him, but it seemed my efforts were wasted, he wanted to be abandoned now.

"I want you out of my house wench," he shouted at me, after yet another night at the pub. "You aren't wanted here!"

He stumbled at me drunkenly, and I could tell that for the first time in my life he meant to strike me. There was still enough love for him left in me that I did not strike out against him with magic, but only just enough. I ran from him, gathered all of my things, and I left our little house for the last time.

* * *

"I thought I was clear in my last missive that our work together would start one week before the start of term here at school," Professor Snape said when he answered my call at the school gates. "Why are you here a week early?"

"I no longer have a place to live, and it seemed a bit idiotic to take out a lease on a flat for one week," I said in a voice that I hoped didn't betray how upset I was about my circumstances. "And I didn't think it cost effective to rent a hotel room for that long. I can if there is no room for me here just yet."

He stepped aside gesturing a bit grandly with his arm for me to enter the grounds, and I did so. He didn't seem particularly happy to see me early, but he at least didn't seem interested in questioning why I found myself homeless. I appreciated that. I didn't want to think about being disowned by what was left of the Riddle family if I didn't have to.

I hated thinking about our family. My great grandparents had been murdered, a murder that was still unsolved, and it left my grandpa on his own and angry. It was dumb luck that he had been late to the family dinner, he'd gone to visit my grandmother who was not yet his wife. After the death's he'd been the last in the family, and it had changed him. He never did marry her, but he did stay with her to raise my father.

My father had been happy as a child, and stayed that way throughout adult life before meeting my mother. He was happy while he was with my mother, until she had discovered that she was pregnant with me, and had to fight tooth and nail to keep her from aborting me. There was a period of unhappiness until I was born, and for a while after because my mother abandoned the two of us, but eventually he had been happy again.

I missed that happy man, and wondered if perhaps I reminded him of my mother and that was why he hated me now. Or perhaps he hated that the family name was dying with me. He had always been so proud of our name, and now the family would disappear. Maybe if I had been a boy it would have been okay for me to go away to school.

"You won't be off to a good start on your apprenticeship if you run into a wall because you aren't paying attention to where you are walking," Professor Snape said as he stuck his arm out to keep me from doing just that. "Dare I even ask what is on your mind Miss Riddle?"

"Silly things that only matter to girls," I lied swiftly. "Where will I be staying now? Still in Slytherin?"

"You will have your own quarters in the dungeon," he explained as he directed me past the entrance to the potions classroom. "You're settled halfway between the private lab, and my chambers."

"I get my own chambers?" I asked, my excitement bubbling over more than was really appropriate.

"They aren't much," he said with a brief dark chuckle. "A bedroom and a bathroom, that is all."

"Ah yes, but it's private," I smiled. "And I can call it my own. I like that."

He shook his head, and I imagined him thinking something along the lines of _children_. He drew my attention to a door that I was positive had not existed last year.

"Wards have been placed to allow only you, the headmaster, and myself to enter the room unless personally invited by you, and even then you must be present for an invited person to enter," he explained. "The door will not be visible to anyone else. I hope I do not have to explain to you that decorum is expected. You are not to be doing anything illicit in these chambers Miss Riddle."

"Of course," I nodded, eager to look inside.

"You'll have the week to settle in as I am not yet prepared for your lessons." He continued. "I will have meals sent to your room at seven, twelve, and six as the great hall is not yet being serviced. Try not to get into trouble."

"I wouldn't dream of it," I said quietly to his retreating back

I let myself into the room, and I supposed I could see what he meant about it not being much. There was a bed, a desk, an armoire, and an arm chair. I could see a door that must lead into the bathroom. The walls were stone, and the furniture dark wood. The bedspread and arm chair were both dark green. It was quaint, and I loved it. I much preferred it to the closet like room my father had relegated me to when he no longer wished to acknowledge that I was his daughter.

"This is home now," I said to the empty room, and even though I was melancholic, I felt a happiness begin to grow in me once more.

* * *

Being a student learning potions, and being a potions apprentice were so different from one another it was like living on a different planet. I spent nearly every moment in the private lab, and when I wasn't there brewing I was grading papers for Professor Snape, or grabbing a bite to eat in the great hall before hurrying off to grab a nap or go to bed for the night. I was inundated with research, working my fingers to the bone. I was ecstatic!

Already, I had completed, and perfected my vaccine. It was sent off to St. Mungos for testing, and the ministry for approval, and I was moving on to my next project. I thought it might be possible to create a similar vaccine for Black Cat Flu. Professor Snape actually bordered on sounding complimentary when he wasn't analyzing my theories thoroughly.

"Will you be pursuing a career in the medical field when you are done here?" he asked me while he worked on brewing for the hospital wing, and I debated on if adding lacewing flies to my potion was the tight choice.

"I don't know," I admitted as I finally decided to give the lacewing flies a shot and dropped a couple in to the potion and began to stir. "I'm interested in medical research, but I am not sure I would actually want to interact with any patients. That is one reason I was glad that St. Mungos staff was willing to handle the potion testing for me."

"We need to branch out your research topics if you aren't certain you want to go into medicine," he said as he began bottling his potion in to vials. "You are pigeon holing yourself right now, which will affect your CV until you actually have your mastery, and could even after that if there is no variety in your study."

"I'm also interested combat potions," I offered lightly as I watched my potion turn from dark purple to the lilac I was aiming for. "I read about their limited usage in the war, and I would like to learn more about them."

"I'll need to contact the ministry about your intent as that has to be approved first," he said distractedly as he began investigating my now finished potion. "I do not forsee that being an issue with your flawless disciplinary record however."

I nodded with a slight smile as I began to ladle my potion into a mason jar to store it until I had the chance to test its effectiveness.

* * *

"I assume you will understand that none of your experiments should involve ingredients that go in the Madrake restorative potion now. Am I correct?" Professor Snape snapped as he looked around the potion stores pulling out ingredients he intended to safe guard.

"Of course sir," I agreed easily, conjuring a box for him to put his ingredients in and offering it to him. "Do you need my help with anything?"

"No," he said, his voice softening slightly when he saw that I wasn't fighting him like a petulant teenager. "The potion isn't difficult to brew, but considering the circumstances it wouldn't be acceptable for anyone other than me to brew it."

"About the circumstance," I asked softly, aware that my question could easily get me thrown out of lab for the day. "Is this chamber of secrets thing real? I can't seem to find any literature on it."

"The headmaster believes that it is indeed the case," Professor Snape said, turning to look speculatively at me while crossing his arms over his chest. "It is not to be spread amongst the student body of course, but this unknown chamber was opened fifty years ago as well."

I fought the urge to point out that I wasn't going to spread it around. It wouldn't help me to look like an adult if I started pouting like a teenager. Still, I was offended.

"The last time the chamber was opened a student died," he continued, his voice taking on the tone it had during lectures. "Now that both Creevy and Finch-Fletchy have been petrified the board of governors is seriously considering shutting down the school for safety."

"This is perhaps a selfish question," I said. "But would the closing of the school mean the end of my apprenticeship?"

"No, it wouldn't," he answered after a long pause. "It would however mean a serious reduction in experimenting, as the ministry funding would be significantly lower if I were a private brewer rather than a Hogwarts professor."

"I suppose it's in my best interest that the school stays open then," I chuckled as I put on an air of Slytherin indifference and made to leave the storage room. "I'm going to make the rounds through the green houses to check on our now very precious ingredients."

He nodded his assent and went back to his task. I could tell he wouldn't be expecting me back for a while, so I had plenty of time to do a little digging of my own. Someone in this school had opened that chamber again, and I wanted to find out who it was. I told myself it was because I wanted to make sure I was kept in prime ingredients, but deep in my gut I knew this was because I was afraid. Whatever this was it was going after muggleborns, and I fit in that category.

* * *

For the first time since I even started attending Hogwarts I left the castle for Christmas break. I didn't go very far, just into Hogsmeade, but I thought now that considering I had turned 19 it was high time I got a place of my own. I had to take up a brewing contract with Slug and Jiggers in Diagon Alley in order to swing it, but I now found myself the owner of studio style flat over Zonko's Joke shop. It had the faint smell of fireworks, but it was something I could call my own so I liked it. Even though I had taken to brushing my hair more often and applying makeup simply for something to do, I liked it.

I liked it enough to pretend that ringing in Christmas alone in a one room apartment with nothing but a handmade paper Christmas tree to keep me company was not at all lonely. I also pretended that by sending Professor Snape a new set of glass vials as a gift that I hadn't sort of expected I would also be getting a gift. I'd never been one to expect a lot of gifts, but having my first holiday where I did not receive any at all was a little disheartening.

In order to distract myself from melancholic behavior I decided to adopt a Christmas tradition for myself. My first idea had been to roast chestnuts over the fire, but all I had that was remotely close was a can of water chestnuts, and they didn't look to be appealing after roasting. Instead I hand popped some corn in the fireplace and strung it on a string to decorate my window even though the holiday would be ending in a few hours.

I was unsure of if I would continue this particular tradition after discovering just how tedious it was to string pieces of popcorn with the needle so ready to break up the pieces. It kept me busy for several hours though, so by the time I was draping my popcorn like a valance it was night and late enough to get away with going to bed.

* * *

"I realize it's late," Professor Snape said as he gestured to the cauldron with a red bow on the counter between us. "The incompetent man I hired out for engraving took far longer than expected."

"Don't worry about it," I waved him off as I stepped closer to look at the cauldron. "I didn't expected a gift to begin with."

His brow quirked, and that was all I needed to know that he had purchased the cauldron after receiving my gift. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling as I thought of him hurrying out to get a gift in order to reciprocate the gesture I had made. I turned my attention to the cauldron and was startled to realize that he must have spent quite a bit of money on this little gem.

"This is tungsten," I gasped, running my fingers over the metal that had only recently been discovered as highly conducive to potion brewing, particularly for medical potions. "Where did you get this?"

"St. Mungos was willing to part with one when they saw how effective your vaccination potion was," he said dismissively, watching me closely as I lightly ran my fingers over the engraving. "The man charged a fortune to engrave such a material. The cost of four letters was my limit. I thought that was a better abbreviation than Adel."

"I like the sound of Addi," I said, offering a brief smile before turning my attention back to the cauldron so as not to embarrass myself. "I suppose it would have taken the entire cauldron to fit Miss Riddle anyway."

"And a small fortune," he said with a dark chuckle before he swept away and returned to preparing ingredients at his own station.

"Thank you sir," I said quietly before I started gathering my own ingredients to test my new theory on the cat flu vaccine.

"I doubt you will be as grateful when I tell you what your next project is," he smirked. "Madam Pomfrey needs a reversal potion for a certain Gryffindor girl who apparently tried to use polyjuice potion in combination with a bit of cat hair."

"She tried to use polyjuice to transfigure herself into a cat?" I scoffed, barely restraining the urge to call her an idiot.

"That's the story she's sticking to with Madam Pomfrey anyway," he lilted. "Whether or not she was lying, we should probably turn her back into a bushy haired know-it-all."

"Probably," I smirked and put aside the ingredients I had been setting up, and pulled out my notes on polyjuice potion and began to look them over.

* * *

I had been scouring any source I could think of trying to figure out what beast was attacking the school. I wanted to know what it was, and where it was hiding. Not to mention how it seemed to be getting around the castle without detection. It was that curiosity that had me investigating the bathroom where it had all started in the middle of the night, when I assumed I would not be seen by anyone.

Luck was apparently not with me tonight though. As soon as I slid into Moaning Myrtle's bathroom I heard a girl's voice. At least I thought it was a girl, but the hissing noises she was making made it hard to be sure on the gender. My instincts were at war with each other, but opted to follow the one that told me to at least see who was up at this time of night speaking in parseltongue in the bathroom.

I walked quietly in to the bathroom, letting the door slip silently closed behind me as I crept forward. I was flush with the stone partition that hid the restroom from the view of the door when I caught sight of her in one of the mirrors. I saw her long enough to note the bright red hair and mentally note that I was fairly sure it was a first year before I caught sight of the bigger problem.

One of the sinks had opened up and something was moving up out of is. Was this little girl doing this? What was her name anyway? Jenny or something like that. I forgot to remember her name when the beast revealed itself, for a moment I was staring at the reflection of bright yellow eyes, and then there was nothing.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Song for this chapter: Heavy In Your Arms by Florence and the Machine**_

* * *

When my eyes opened in the hospital wing it was to the sight of two black eyes staring down in to mine. As the blurry world took focus around them I realized they were set in the face of Professor Snape and he was moving his finger back and forth for me to track. I complied and he nodded his approval.

"Well Addi, sneaking out at night to track a basilisk?" he said with a sardonic smirk. "I didn't realize you were so desperate to escape my tutelage."

"I had no idea it was a basilisk," I sighed, surprised to hear how hoarse my voice was. "It was completely idiotic. I am lucky I saw it in the mirror."

He nodded, and I thought perhaps I should be offended that he was agreeing that I had been an idiot, but it had just dawned on me that he called me Addi and that was rather distracting.

"How much have I missed?" I asked in the same horridly hoarse voice.

"Well, you were petrified in late January. Leaving me to brew Miss Granger's potion by the by," he said with a quirked brow. "And it is now mid-June."

"June?" I gasped, sitting up quickly, and immediately regretting it when my head swam. "I've lost months! Deadlines have been missed, and I haven't even begun any of the research on the combative potions that you wanted me too."

"Calm down," he scoffed without allowing his face to harden. "We can make up for lost time over the summer if you are concerned. For now I need to test your motor skills or Madam Pomfrey is going to give birth to a bowtruckle."

My head swam a bit when he took me by the arm and helped me to climb out of bed. I hoped it was just how long I had spent in bed, and not his proximity that was having such an effect on me. It didn't escape my notice that from my position so close to him I could smell the fragrances of the restorative draught he had just brewed to revive me. It smelled nice, but the pleasant moment ended when he started putting me through my paces working muscles that hadn't moved in four and a half months.

* * *

I didn't attend the celebratory feast. Professor Snape had gone because he was required to and he suggested that do so as well, but I instead spent the evening in my chambers. I took a hot bath and spent the night reading through ever potion periodical I had missed while I had been petrified. As the students and staff alike were outside enjoying the sunshine as they waited for the last day of term to arrive with the train to bring them home I stayed down in the dungeons and worked tirelessly over my cauldron to make the perfections to my vaccine I had missed out on making during the year.

By the time all of the students had gone I had sent of my completed potion off to St. Mungos for testing, and I had gathered the few possession I had collected over the years and taken them to my flat in Hogsmeade. I was surprised to discover that I still had the flat as I hadn't exactly been able to pay rent for four months. I was embarrassed to discover that Professor Snape had taken action to secure both my flat and my contract with Slug and Jiggers. I was beyond grateful, but I felt indented to him in a way that I was unsure of how to repay.

He waved me off and kicked me out of my office when I tried to thank him, so I simply left to go to to the home I wouldn't have if it weren't for him. Being in my home was strange, or perhaps it was just me. I kept worrying that I would somehow fall back into my unconscious state when I slept and miss several more months of my life. It lead to a lot of sleepless nights. The only upside I could find to those sleepless nights was a rapidly growing understanding of combative potions.

"What have you decided?" Professor Snape asked, drawing my attention to the fact that I was staring at two plants as if they had the answers of the universe.

"I think it…" I was saying from over my cauldron to Professor Snape when I caught myself trying to drift off and had to shake myself back awake. "Uh… if you were to replace the c-camomille… with billingsroot…"

Finger's snapped in front of my face and I realized I must have actually drifted off while still up on my feet in front of a cauldron.

"It could suppress the magic of anyone that you threw it at, temporarily anyway," I finished quickly my shoulder's tensing for whatever he would yell at me.

"When was the last time you slept?" he asked quietly, tilting my head up toward the light and examining my face like some potion ingredient.

"I slept last night," I said quietly, still bracing for the worst.

"Do not lie to me Miss Riddle," he growled and I flinched but managed to keep from backing away.

"It wasn't technically a lie," I said hoarsely, surprised by the lack of sound in my voice. "I just didn't elaborate on how long I slept."

"And how long did you sleep last night," he asked in the silky voice that suggested I was in trouble, as he let go of my chin.

"About 15 minutes or so," I admitted, not wanting to push my luck when he was close to actually yelling at me.

"And what would you average your sleep over the last week to total?" he quizzed, crossing his arms over his chest and staring me down.

I had to actually think about that, but the harder I tried to concentrate on it, the heavier my eyelids seemed to get. I was still trying to do the math when I felt my eyes trying to close and the breeze that warned me I was tipping over. I jerked myself forward and grabbed onto the counter, using the rush of adrenaline to force my mind to do math.

"20 minutes," I answered, not entirely sure I hadn't made up the extra five minutes.

He pinched his nose in irritation and let out a long nearly quiet breath before he jumped into action. He grabbed a stool from the end of the brewing station and slid it behind me before pushing me down on to it with a surprisingly gentle touch. When he was satisfied that I was not on the verge of falling to the floor in a faint or something he leaned back against the counter top with his arms cross over his chest once more, though he didn't look nearly as intimidating this time.

"Why aren't you sleeping?" he asked quietly.

I didn't want to answer him. He was going to call me an idiot or think I was being childish. I'd worked hard to have him view me as something other than a silly student, and it looked like I was about to lose that. But not answering would probably make it worse.

"I'm afraid I won't wake up," I sighed, dropping my gaze to the floor. "What if I close my eyes thinking I'm just going to bed for the night, and the next time I open my eyes it's another four months down the road? Or what if I just don't wake up?"

"Is there a basilisk in your flat?" he asked pointedly.

"No," I said quietly, still not meeting his gaze.

"Then I don't see how you will end up petrified while trying to sleep in your flat," he pointed out in a gentle voice I didn't recognize.

"It's idiotic I know," I groaned, leaning forward to rest my head on the counter.

"Damn it," Professor Snape snapped, and I snapped thinking I was in trouble until I smelled the burning hair.

He grabbed my hands when I reached up, stupidly, to try and put it out with my bare hands. I spluttered when he cast the aguamenti charm that drenched me with cold water, but also put my hair out. He produced a hand towel from somewhere and offered it to me to wipe my face.

"You can't be in the lab," he said sharply, throwing his arms up in frustration. "I am going to get you a vial of dreamless sleep, and you are going to go to sleep now! I will take you to your flat myself and ascertain that you have taken the potion."

I just nodded. He was already mad, and I didn't want to make it worse. He took me by the upper arm and drug me with him as he retrieved a vial from the storage room. I barely manage to remain on my feet as he led me out of the school and into the surprisingly bright sunlight.

I was dead tired by the time he had pulled me along at a brisk pace all the way across the grounds, through town, and up into my flat. I was dead tired, but a small part of my brain wondered how he even knew where I lived. I didn't bother asking as he took me right into my bedroom and stood me next to the bed.

"I'm going to step out so you can change into something dry," he told me as he turned to walk back out of the room. "I'll be back to ensure you take your potion."

I nodded toward his back, and as soon as he cleared the doorframe I started awkwardly trying to change into my pajamas when my limbs didn't want to cooperate. It took an inordinate amount of time to pull on my flannel pants and a tank top, but when I finally managed it I was so tired that I dropped like a weight into my bed. My eyes were closed instantly, but I heard Professor Snape come back into the room.

"I had a feeling I wouldn't even need this," I heard him chuckle and then I slipped into the realm of sleep.

At least momentarily.

Far too soon, I snapped awake once more, my heart beating quickly in my chest. I bolted upright in my bed and looked around with eyes so tired they were burning and my eyes landed on Professor Snape sitting in the chair by my dresser checking his watch.

"I basically made you run three miles when you hadn't had a decent sleep in more than seven days," he drawled looking up from his watch. "And that only tired you out enough for 26 minutes of sleep. Potion it is then."

I didn't fight him on it. He offered me the vial, and I took it without complaint. I drank the potion and wanted to cry with relief when I felt the gentle weight settling in my limbs. I lay back down, and snuggled into my blanket allowing sleep to take me once more.

I was warm and comfortable and of so ready for rest.

Still it didn't last.

"Shit Addi," his voice greeted me once more as I rolled onto my back and groaned at the idea of being awake again when I was so bloody tired.

"How long?" I asked as I turned my head to the side, and saw him in the same chair, reading one of my potion periodicals.

"Just shy of an hour, which is completely impossible," he scoffed. "I brewed that potion myself. You should have been out for 12 hours."

"I told you. I can't sleep." I sighed, throwing my blanket over my face and muffling a frustrated growl.

"Have you ever had trouble sleeping in the castle?" he asked, switching into scholarly mode.

"Not that I can recall," I mused as I wracked my mind. "Of course the last time I slept in the castle I slept for months."

"For the sake of the experiment let try having you sleep in your old rooms then," he suggested, standing from the chair and pulling my shoes out of the pile of discarded clothes on the floor. "Worst case scenario you just wake up again."

"Fine," I sighed. "But can we floo up? I am dead tired."

"We're walking," he said with sad smile. "You are going to sleep if I have to keep you walking until you literally fall asleep on your feet."

* * *

His plan ended up working. Between being worn out and being plied with enough sleeping potion to put an elephant to sleep. I went to sleep, and slept clear through the night. We decided between the two of us that I wouldn't be keeping my flat if I wasn't going to sleep there anyway. I collected my things and moved into the castle on a more permanent basis, and I had to admit I could get a lot more research done when my lab was just feet away and when my sleep time was measured in hours instead of minutes.

I completed enough researched that by the time the next school year started rolling around again I was completely caught up on everything I had missed the year before, and well prepared to continue on through the school year. I was also doing a lot more independent study as Professor Snape had become incredibly distant after the announcement of the new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor was made public. I didn't know what to think about this Remus Lupin, but Professor Snape seemed to think the world was ending when the appointment was made, so I was inclined to think it was going to be a bad fit.

When I had come back to the world of the living, and had more sleep under my belt than I knew what to do with, I remembered what I had said to Professor Snape about billigsroot. I had been working on a potion that could stun an attack and keep him from being revived and brought back to fighting condition for 30 minutes. I thought that taking the opportunity to remove their magic might actually be more beneficial. They would be left without anyway to magically override how the potion is supposed to work.

So I was working on my ideas for that when the students arrived back at the castle, and with them Professor Lupin. If I hadn't been so wrapped up in working on my research, I probably wouldn't have been present in the lab to get my first glimpse into why Professor Snape did not like Professor Lupin. I supposed that it might be a bit bigoted, but I found I couldn't fault him when I felt uncomfortable with the Professor being present upon learning it as well.

"That's Wolfsbane," I pointed out stupidly staring at his cauldron from across the room.

"Very astute," he sneered without looking up from his work.

"Have you taken up a contract?" I asked him, honestly curious about why he would be brewing such an expensive potion.

"No, I have not," he snapped turning around the table so his back was facing me.

"Are you experimenting?" I pushed, knowing that I was pushing my luck but wanting to know the answer too much.

"Mind your own business Miss Riddle," he said in that eerily calm voice that told me I was in trouble.

I watched him for a few moments without speaking. He seemed tense, angry even, but he had been that way before I had started questioning him. Was he angry about brewing the potion? It seemed that he was, but why would he be? Unless he was being ordered to brew it when he didn't want to. But who would make him brew it? He'd probably only listen to Professor Dumbledore on something like that, but why would the headmaster force him to do something that would use up so many expensive materials?

"Did Professor Dumbledore ask you to make that potion?" I asked quietly. "Is it for someone here in the castle?"

He didn't say anything, but his silence was answer enough.

"Is that for Professor Lupin?" I whispered, and again his actions answered when his head snapped around and the gaze that met mine was burning.

"I never said that," he seethed.

I just gave a stiff nod of the head and hurried out of the room before he could start yelling like I knew he wanted too. I hurried back to my chambers and began to pace between my bed and my chair.

"A werewolf cannot be allowed to teach here," I whispered to myself, running my fingers through my hair in frustration.

I kicked at my blankets that were hanging off my bed. I should have made that this morning, but I hadn't, and now I was irrationally angry that they were just hanging off the bed like that.

"It isn't safe," I shouted at the empty room as I tore the blankets up from where they lay and tossing them onto the bed. "Why would he put the entire student body at risk like that?"

I often prided myself on being a Slytherin, but I was acting the part of a Gryffindor when I stormed out of my room with the intention of telling Professor Dumbledore exactly what I thought about his choice to risk the lives of the students and the staff. To risk my life. I stormed through the halls without paying heed to anyone or anything.

If I had been paying attention I might have noticed that it was odd that the passageway leading up to the headmaster's office was already open. I might have stopped on my path before I stepped onto the spiral stairway and came within hearing range of the office.

"You said his real name was Tom Riddle," said a boy in anger. "All it took was an internet search to see that she's related to him."

"A person's relations do not determine their worth, you should know that Harry," Professor Dumbledore answered.

"Being related to the Dursleys and being the cousin of Voldemort are not the same thing!" Potter shouted back at him, and it felt like ice had settled within my chest. "She was sorted into Slytherin, she spends all her time in the dungeons, and last I heard she's researching some potion to kill people. Sounds like she takes after her cousin to me!"

I heard the beginning of a soft rebuke, but I was already beating a hasty path back down the stairs before they deposited me right outside of the office that I no longer wanted to visit. The ice was spreading through my chest making it hard to breath as I ran away. I ran right back to my room and climbed into the bed that had been the sight of my temper just minutes ago.

I didn't like the comparison. I didn't like the insinuation. I hate the outright misrepresentation of my research. But could I hate Potter for his assumption? I was to Tom Riddle wasn't I? But was it true that Tom Riddle became He Who Must Not Be Named? If he was then perhaps allowing me to be employed at the school was ruled as an equal risk to the risk of employing a werewolf.

Was I a risk? Was there a darkness in me? Was my research something bad? I suddenly wasn't so sure of my answer, but I knew who I wanted to start asking questions. I took a moment to compose myself after crawling back out of the nest I had created in my bed. I straighten my clothes, and I pulled my now ratted up hair back into what could pass for a messy bun. When I no longer looked like I had just been hving a fit in my room I walked calmly back to the private lab, not at all surprised to find that Professor Snape was still slaving away over his cauldron.

"Professor Snape," I asked cautiously, and he still looked angry when he turned to look at me. "I wanted to ask you a question, but I promise it has nothing to do with that potion. I understand that it isn't any of my business."

"Go ahead," he said with a tired look in his eyes, and I supposed I should be glad he hadn't just thrown me out of the lab.

"I know you don't like to talk about this sort of thing, so I will only ask the one question," I said as I nervously dropped my gaze to the floor so I wouldn't have to see his annoyance. "Uhm… is it true that He Who Must Not Be Named used to be called Tom Riddle?"

"Where did you hear that?" he asked, the anger gone from his voice.

"It doesn't matter," I said quietly, still not meeting his gaze. "Do you know if it's true?"

"It is," he answered in the same mildly stern voice he would use if I had asked about a potion ingredient.

"Okay," I breathed, what seemed to be the last air in my lungs leaving as I finally met his confused eyes. "I can't… I can't work with combative potions anymore. I don't think it's okay. If you wish to dismiss me as an apprentice I'll understand, but it won't change my opinion."

"Okay then," he said with a bemused look flitting across his features before they became even and unreadable once more. "I'd love to hear the story of how this suddenly became an issue."

I shook my head, and gathered every bit of Slytherin training I had when my inexplicable guilt threatened to break fourth in tears or something equally embarrassing. I kept my back stiff and my face empty as I walked out of the room. I felt like I didn't know who I was anymore. Was I truly related to a megalomaniac mass murderer? Did he have anything to do with the unsolved murder of my family members? The thought made me sick, but it also felt like fact rather than suspicion. I needed to do some entirely different research.

* * *

The second year of my apprenticeship got away from me quickly as I essentially unraveled. I felt absolutely shattered to realize what had really happened to my family, and who my family was. I lost touch with who I was in the face of such darkness. For two months after my realization I created nothing of worth. My potions were worthless, unimaginative, and often not even made correctly. Professor Snape yelled at me regularly, but to his credit he never once threatened to let me go.

I felt like I was going through the motions of life as I tried to put my self -mage back together. And by Christmas break I was still lost in that strange sea of confusion, but I made a larger effort to try and be normal. My first step for that was going out to find a gift to give to Professor Snape for Christmas. It was a weird situation where he was my superior in a professional setting, and yet he was the only person in the castle I might venture to think of as a friend. That didn't even include the fact that he had gotten me such a thoughtful gift the year before, which left me feeling obligated to find something better than a set of potion vials. I thought about it for a long time, and in the end I purchased him a carved ivory wand box that had his initials set in a web of vines.

I had a house elf deliver it to him both because I didn't want to make it too personal and because I didn't want to see his face if he hate the gift or thought it was stupid. It was possible that he would throw it away, I just didn't want to see it happen. So I hid away in my room on Christmas, not even going up to the Great Hall for meals. Though that had more to do with how few students were here for the break than anything else. I no longer felt comfortable around the student body. It was like I had a plague that I might spread to them. I might somehow make them evil as well.

I was startled when I saw the gift from Severus sitting at the foot of my bed. It was wrapped in brown paper, but it was clearly a book. I was a bit surprised upon unwrapping it to see that it was a muggle book. It was titled Poems and Paragraphs and it was written by Robert Elliot Gonzales. I was also surprised that there was a bookmark placed in it already. I flipped to the page he had marked saw that it had a single line underscored with his signature red ink. It was nestled amongst many other lines, but it felt like it was the only line on the page when I read it. _A good many family trees are shady._

How had he known that such a sentence was exactly what I needed to hear? It seemed strange that after such a struggle it would be a line in a by a man I had never even heard of that would turn it all around for me. How was I supposed to thank Professor Snape for reminding me that my family did not have to define me? I honestly had no idea.

* * *

In the end I didn't thank him, because that would've been entirely to Gryffindor of me, and his gift had been handled with the grace of Slytherin. Instead I took his statement to heart, and held it dear to me as I made an effort to spend less time hiding away in the dungeon. It became a challenge to do that when putting myself closer to the student body revealed that Potter hadn't exactly been quiet about his suspicions in relation to my heritage, but every time another student sneered at me or said something about my tainted blood I reminded myself that my family did not define me. I did not lash out at them, because my bloodline did not dictate that I had to be violent as well.

"I just don't understand why Dumbledore even lets someone like that stay in the school," I heard a Hufflepuff student whispering to a friend from Ravenclaw.

I remained where I was in the stacks, blatantly listening to their conversation, frozen in place by my morbid curiosity.

"Well the school let her cousin attend too didn't they," the Ravenclaw answered. "It's probably an equal opportunity thing. Though I am not sure I believe that her cousin really was He Who Must Not Be Named."

"Why would Harry Potter lie?" the Hufflepuff asked.

"Why would Adel Riddle show her face here if that story were true?" the Ravenclaw countered.

"Perhaps she doesn't believe that a possible relation to a dark wizard makes her a dark witch," I said as I stepped out from behind the books and gave them a stern look. "You also might find it interesting to hear that as an apprentice I am able to deduct points from students."

I took a sick bit of joy at watching the color blanch out of their faces.

"Keep the gossip to a minimum why don't you," I sighed, and then I left them sitting there with panic stricken faces and made my way out of the library.

It was a step forward, I wasn't necessarily upset with the conversation I had overheard. It was also a step backward because I was realizing just how many students were talking about me. I supposed that the only thing that made me feel better was that just as many people were talking about Professor Snape and the cross-dressing episode with boggart that took his form.

* * *

It was perhaps slightly less entertaining when Professor Snape retaliated by setting every class he covered for Professor Lupin to write essays on werewolves. It was obvious to me he was trying to tell everyone what the man was and it made laugh albeit darkly. Unfortunately Professor Dumbledore did not find it funny, and I found myself caught a bit awkwardly in the middle of a scolding from the headmaster to the potions master. I remained hidden away in the private lab, but I heard the entire conversation. Mostly because it was a very loud conversation.

"Did you enjoy the show?" Professor Snape asked with a dark smirk as he joined me in the lab and shut the door a bit forcefully behind him.

"I didn't hear a word of it," I lied smoothly. "If I had I might use words like bloody infuriating to describe you."

"You ought to watch your mouth then," he said with an evil sounding chuckle. "We wouldn't want to give the impression that you had overheard a private scolding or perhaps we might have to discipline you for disrespect."

"Yes sir," I said, biting back a laugh of my own as I realized just how little he cared about what the headmaster had said.

"In all seriousness, I should remind you, that my own recently remiss behavior aside, we should do our best to keep that little bit of information under the table," he said with all of the humor gone from his voice.

"Yes, I understand," I said stiffly, still not able to easily stomach the fact that the school was employing a werewolf who couldn't even brew his own wolfsbane.

I couldn't decide if I was bigoted, or if I was judgmental over his lack of skill. It might have been both. I chose not to delve further into the issue as I was still trying to convince myself that I wasn't some devil spawn because of my family.

* * *

The end of the year, as usual, snuck up on me, but for the first time I was supremely surprised by what came with it. Professor Snape and I had been in the lab working together, and he had left to deliver the night's wolfsbane to Professor Lupin telling me he would return shortly. The problem was that he did not return shortly. I went up to Professor Lupin's office in search of him, and discovered a bit of parchment that revealed a map of the castle grounds that showed a great many things. The most interesting thing it revealed was a group of people that seemed to be appearing out of what should have been just the whomping willow.

I might have simply ignored it, it wasn't any of my business after all, but I noticed a dot labeled Severus Snape amongst the group and it drew my curiosity. Something seemed off, first because he was in a group of people instead of alone. Secondly according to this piece of paper he was with Sirius Black which was highly unlikely. Lastly his little dot seemed to be wandering about in a wholly uncharacteristic way.

It was the way his dot was swaying from side to side that sent me rushing over to the window to see if this piece of parchment was telling the truth. I almost choked on my tongue when I saw a heap of black on the ground that appeared to be Professor Snape and moving wildly around him was a big black dog, a werewolf, and those three Gryffindors. I didn't even think about it, I turned and high tailed it out of the office and raced through the castle.

The grounds were eerily quiet by the time I reached them. The dog and Professor Lupin were gone as were two of the three Gryffindors. The Weasley was slumped on the ground, and not far from him Professor Snape still wasn't moving. I pushed myself to keep running toward him while ignoring the horrible stitch in my side.

I skidded to a stop, dropping to my knees as his side, and hoping he couldn't somehow hear my panting as I rolled him onto his back in an effort to see what was actually wrong with him. I immediately noticed the blood trickling out of his hair and noted both that he had sustained a head injury and that I was an idiot for having moved him without checking for any sort of neck injury. I pushed his hair back and gently prodded until I found the source of the blood. There was a wound but it felt relatively small. I suspected that the force it would have taken to injury him would also mean that he had a concussion, but I didn't see any problem with reviving him. I silently cast the enervate, realizing a second too late that I had my somewhat snarky potions master lying in my lap.

He made a sound that was strikingly similar to a hiss as his entire body went rigid and he threw himself away from me, rolling in a surprisingly fluid motion until he was crouched down looking at me. There was a moment of recognition that flashed through his eyes and he relaxed his body before sliding into a more comfortable position.

"What are you doing out here?" he asked finally before looking around to see who else was with us.

"You were gone longer than expected and I suddenly thought I had been sorted into Gryffindor and acted accordingly," I said icily in an effort to hide my embarrassment.

"Well you might have noticed that there is a full-fledged werewolf loose on the grounds this evening," he said in a tight voice as he fluidly stood up. "Take this student back to the castle while I collect the others."

And just like that he was sprinting away toward the lake, which I realized, belatedly seemed to be the scene of a dramatic scene involving far too many dementors to be healthy. With panic threatening to overrule me I focused on following out the instruction given to me with the utmost calm. So I kept working on slowing my labored breathing, while I went through the motions of conjuring a stretcher for Ronald Weasley. I laid the stretcher in the grass beside him and tried to be delicate while moving him when I saw that his leg had clearly been broken at some point during the evening.

He stayed unconscious while I drug his surprisingly heavy body onto the white canvas, and he did not wake up when I levitated him into the air. I was glad that I didn't have to haul that white canvas stretcher without magic because the hospital wing was quite a ways away, and I clearly wasn't getting enough physical activity in my life right now.

"Miss Riddle, what is going on?" Madam Pomfrey asked when I appeared at the door to her office with Ronald Weasley hovering just behind me.

"I'm not entirely sure Madam Pomfrey," I told her as I moved to the side so she could better see her patient. "Professor Snape is handling some situation on the grounds, but he asked me to bring Mr. Weasley up to the hospital wing. I am not sure why he is unconscious or how he broke his leg, but I can say that I didn't note any other injuries."

"Okay then," she said, jumping into medical mode. "Why don't you move him to the nearest bed? Do you have any injuries that need to be treated?"

"No ma'am," I said with a quick shake of the head. "Can I help with anything?"

"Could you fetch the headmaster?" she asked distractedly while focusing her attention on Weasley. "I have a feeling we will be needing him before the night is out."

"There will be no need," the headmaster said, drawing our attention to where he now stood in the doorway. "I am already here. Professor Snape sent word that I would be needed, and he shall be up shortly. There is a security risk coming up with him, so I must ask that your return to your chambers Miss Riddle."

"So I really did see Sirius Black then?" I asked as my feet moved to immediately comply with his instructions.

"I couldn't say," the headmaster answered in that frustrating tone of his.

I shook my head softly before hurrying out of the room. I beat a hasty retreat back to the dungeons hoping that I could convince Professor Snape to tell me everything that had happened later tonight.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Song for this chapter: Fidelity by Regina Spektor**_

* * *

In the days that followed that strange evening I came to question a lot of things. The first thing I questioned was whether or not my apprenticeship would be continuing. Not because I didn't want it to, but because I wasn't entirely sure Professor Snape was going to keep his job. There was a very real chance of him being fired for letting it slip to the student body that Professor Lupin was a werewolf. IT seemed more likely though that he was simply going to quit.

I had seen him at what I thought was his most angry when dealing with potions incidents with particularly stupid students, but then Harry Potter had come to Hogwarts. I adjusted my idea of what his highest level of anger was. And then there was this new anger, that was absolutely terrifying. He was half crazed with his anger, and prone to explosion at the slightest provocation.

He nearly destroyed the lab in a fit of rage when I had the audacity to ask if we were going to be holding lessons over the summer again. And that was the end of me staying in the castle over the summer. I felt badly for him, I really did, but I didn't want anything to do with him when he was going to take his anger out on me.

It wasn't until I was walking through the castle gates with a duffle full of my things that it occurred to me that I didn't actually have anywhere to go, and the only person I actually wanted to talk to was back in the castle having some sort of mental break down. Perhaps if I had been sorted into Hufflepuff I might have swallowed my pride and gone back an apologized to Professor Snape even though I thought he was wrong. But I wasn't sorted into Hufflepuff, I was a Slytherin, and perhaps that meant that I had a bit of a pride issue. That pride carried me down to Hogsmeade and into the Three Broomsticks because they had a help wanted sign in the window.

"Hello there," Madam Rosemerta greeted from behind the bar the moment she saw me enter. "What can I get for you?"

"I'm here to inquire about the job you're offering," I said with a polite nod of the head as I approached the bar. "My apprenticeship is on break for the summer and I need to vacate the castle for a few months."

"Not going home this summer?" she asked with a slightly arched brow.

"Eventually we all grow to a point where we must decide to make our own home," I said with a smile that I was sure hid the lingering pain of not actually having a home. "I've been considering attempting to obtain residence in the flat I was renting here in town last year."

"That flats spoken for now," she said with a frown. "Not that I would recommend wasting your time with a lease if you are only out of the castle until the fall."

I nodded my head rather than saying anything that would reveal just how frustrated I was now.

"If you actually want to take the position here helping in the kitchen with dishes and a bit of the cooking," she went on looking thoughtful. "I'd be willing to put you up in one of the rooms upstairs for the summer."

"I certainly don't mind washing dishes," I said with a slight smile. "When would you like me to start?"

"Tonight would be great,' she said with a bright smile. "I'll show you up to your room for now."

* * *

It was later that night when I was tuckered out from a surprisingly ardous shift working in the kitchen, and I was laying on a foreign bed staring up at a ceiling that wasn't made of stone, that the injustice of the situation at the castle really settled upon me. And with it came the crushing guilt when I realized that everyone had shunned Professor Snape for his outburst and I had just run away when he started snapping, leaving him alone in such a bad state.

I tried to console myself by reminding myself that I was only his apprentice and it wasn't my place to support him, but I didn't really believe it. Yes I was his apprentice, but I felt a bit like his friend as well. Perhaps it was imagined on my part simply because he was the only person I could ever hope to call a friend. It was a bit pathetic when I thought about it and I felt my mood shifting from worrying over Professor Snape to feeling sorry for myself and I decided it was time to shelve the simpering Gryffindor emotions and just get on with it.

* * *

And get on with it I did. I spent my mornings keeping abreast on potion publications, and my afternoons and evenings working until I was absolutely exhausted in the kitchen either cooking or cleaning depending on what was needed. On the few days that I didn't work I went for walks through town or even short hikes in the wilderness.

I frequently started letters to see how Professor Snape was doing, but they always ended up in my rummage bin. It was a situation that really demanded an inquiry that happened in person, and I was too much of a coward to face him without a potion workstation between us.

And so I had yet another lonely summer, only this one was confusing because I was surrounded by people constantly and somehow I was still alone. I went through my entire collection of books, but I hardly had the time to make a trip to a book store to replace them so I simply took to spending more time outside. Nothing seemed to put a dent in the permanent white of my skin, but I managed to evade a sunburn so I couldn't complain.

I found that by the time August rolled around I was desperate to return to my apprenticeship. I released a dramatic sigh of relief when I saw the owl I had come to associate with Professor Snape pecking at my window to be let in. I hurried over and threw the window open and the black owl fluttered in and immediately landed on my shoulder, sticking out his foot to offer his letter. I quickly untied it and scratched the owl under his wing before he flew away.

_Miss Riddle,_

_Please return to the castle to resume your apprenticeship in one week's time._

_Professor Snape_

It was short and gave no real indication of if he was still angry, but it was still notice of when I could return so I was elated. I hurried down stairs to give Madam Rosmerta my notice.

* * *

When I appeared in the lab seven days later Professor Snape was there waiting for me, and while he no longer looked angry he didn't seem particularly happy to see me either. I hurried to stand behind my work bench and gave a respectful nod of the head before holding still and waiting quietly for him to speak.

"This year the focus of your studies will be on growing and procuring your own ingredients as a true potions master is not bound by a reliance on apocathery products which are not necessarily of the best quality," he explained from where he stood at the front the lab. "You will not be spending much time in the labs, but when you do it will be to help with brewing for the hospital wing stock. You will also be taking up a contract with Professor Dumbledore to brew Wolfsbane. You will be well paid for your services."

"Sir?" I asked, astounded to realize that I would be taking over brewing for Remus Lupin.

"I will not answer any questions on the subject, you may forward those directly to your employer," he said stiffly. "I do not wish to know anything about it, and I would prefer that you found somewhere other than my labs to brew it."

"Yes sir," I said, lowering my head so I wouldn't have to look into his now burning eyes. "Will I still be working with you, or will Professor Sprout be taking over my studies while I am in the green houses?"

"We will be working in a private green house and it is unlikely you will have much interaction with Professor Sprout unless you seek her out yourself," he answered as if I were an idiot. "Many lessons will take place in the forbidden forest as well as a few surrounding areas here in Scotland that provide useful ingredients."

I nodded my head not wanting to further prove that I was apparently not very intelligent in his eyes.

"As most of your lessons will take place off campus it will be required that they take place on the weekends," he continued. "As this will require me to give up my precious free time you will begin teaching my lessons that fall on Mondays. That means you are now the proud owner of first and second year lessons for half of the week."

I felt myself rising up on to my toes in my excitement, but I managed to catch myself before I made an embarrassing sound or pulled any ridiculous faces.

"Let's not have any theatrics," he said with the tiniest of smirks that made me feel slightly less nervous about whether or not he hated me now. "It will be on a trial basis of course, and I will be a mere twenty feet away in my office should anything go horribly wrong."

"Thank you sir," I said in an even voice that I was proud to say did not betray how excited I was.

"Do not make me regret it," he said flashing a genuine smile before snapping right back into business mode. "And now, for the next week, while we are free of any interrupting, we will be prepping our new greenhouse for use. Do you wish to know what all that entails?"

"Yes sir," I said, though the mischievous look in his eye made me think I didn't actually want to know.

"First we have years of untended plants to get rid of, not to mention fixing the broken windows and planters," he said with a sneer that usually meant he was on the verge of actually laughing. "The earth will need to be tilled in each bed, and fertilizer added. All without magic of course."

_Lovely_.

"Sounds fun," I lied through my teeth as it wouldn't do any good to tell him just how little I wanted to work with manure. "Shall we get started?"

"You may wish to go change first," he suggested with a glance at my well pressed skirt and blouse under my apprentice robes. "I will meet you at the front doors in five minutes time."

He disappeared in a swirl of robes and I found myself wondering what exactly I was supposed to change in to. It wasn't as if I owned clothes specifically for gardening. My entire wardrobe consisted of wool skirts and white blouses. I realized with a turning of my stomach that I was going to have to wear something from my collection of pajamas if I wanted to escape being laughed at for showing up in a dishwashers robes from the Three Broomsticks. At the first free moment I needed to make a shopping trip, and that was not something I had ever been fond of.

* * *

I was so tired by the end of the day that I hardly cared that Professor Snape had seen me in a beat up pair of grey capris and a green t-shirt with a snake on the chest. Every muscle in my body hurt from digging out roots that had years to dig their way deep into the soil. I was even granted the pleasure of draining a foul water plant bed and scrapping the scum out of the empty pond to prep it for new water that we would be pouring in later in the week.

The only bright side to the day had been seeing Professor Snape work, not that I would ever tell him. There was a certain grace to the way he ripped plants from the earth, and he did not look nearly bedraggled as me breaking a slight sweat in hi black slacks and white shirt. I would also never admit to him that I found him rather striking when he removed his frock coat.

All things said and done, I wasn't against the idea of hard physical labor in a beaten down greenhouse if it meant I got to see my mentor in a much more flattering circumstance. I should have perhaps been worried about my shift in perspective, but I simply kept reminding myself that nothing would ever come of it, so it wasn't exactly a crime if I enjoyed looking.

* * *

By the time the students arrived the green house had been tended and was ready to be planted, I had gained a bit of muscle, and Professor Snape seemed to have forgotten that he was supposed to hate me. As I was to be teaching lessons this year I was now required to sit at the staff table rather than simply having the option. It was odd to finally take a seat up at the raised table, and even more strange to be seated directly and Professor Snape's side without having to wonder if I had invaded his personal space somehow.

I also liked having a seat where I could easily watch all of the students as they ate. It meant that I would never be surprised by one of them, but it also permitted me to watch their reactions to whatever took place in the great hall. The opening feast was a good time to be watching them, what with the late appearance of Professor Moody and the announcement of the Triwizard tournament.

I was rather intrigued by the idea of the tournament myself, but watching the students seethe with excitement was quite entertaining. I saw many of them whispering about wanting to join, though personally I thought such an idea was a bit idiotic. Why risk your life for no reason? Honor for your school? A bit of money? I personally didn't think a stupid trophy and 1000 galleons was worth the very real possibility of not living to see the end of the year. I was rather content to simply watch the students wind themselves up before heading off to bed.

* * *

The student excitement carried on well past the feast, but I was lucky that the first and second years did not seem to be as worked up as the other students. Perhaps because they would not be involved with the tournament other than to watch it. I was grateful that I didn't have to fight for their attention while trying to have a successful first day of teaching.

I did not have to open to do the opening lecture, as Professor Snape had done the first week of lessons in an effort to set the tone for how potion lessons were expected to go. I was grateful for that as well, because I was terrified that I would somehow fail to convey how important the subject was. Instead I just had to teach these students how to brew without anyone dying. Not an impossible feat… right?

"Today you will be brewing the cure for boils," I said in my most intimidating voice. "I have written the instructions on the board. As they are quite specific, I ask that you read them right all the way through before you begin to brew."

All the bright little first year eyes turned to the board and began rapidly devouring my instructions. I prided myself on having nice neat print that was far easier to read than Professor Snape's, but I'd never tell him that. They made quick work reading what I had written, and immediately the more confident students began pulling out ingredients. A few were hesitant, and one boy seemed terrified to try it. He was a tiny little Gryffindor that I remembered being the soaked little thing wrapped up in Hagrid's coat at the welcoming feast, but I couldn't quite place his name at first.

"Mr. Creevey, if you don't start your potion soon you won't be able to finish in time and you'll receive a zero for the day," I said quietly but strictly from behind him.

He jumped nearly a foot in the air, but he immediately went to work so I said nothing else. Instead I moved about the tables observing the students working and demonstrating a more effective way to use the mortar here, or explaining what a measure really meant when it came to potion ingredients there. All in all it was going much better than I had expect and the student seemed to be actually learning from me.

Everything was going swimmingly in fact until it came time to add the horned slugs to the potion. I was just stopping a Gryffindor girl from trying to cut her slugs for some reason when I heard a voice cry out in what was either pain or shock, either way it had me turning to the source right away. My eyes landed on Mr. Wolpert who had dropped his slugs on to the table and was cradling his right hand tenderly.

"What is it Mr. Wolpert?" I asked as I hurried over to his table and gently pulled his hand out so I could see it.

"I guess I had a cut on my finger, and it's burning badly now," he answered, his voice wavering as tears began to glisten in his eyes.

"You appear to be allergic to horned slugs Mr. Wolpert," I said in a calm voice that I hoped would keep him from bursting into tears. "You just hold still for me alright?"

He nodded and tightened his jaw in an effort not to cry and I set to work. I quickly cast a cooling charm on his hand to ease some of the burning and the I conjured a hand towel to lay beneath his hand before casting an aguamenti and using the steady stream to wash all of the slime away and thoroughly clean the small cut along the side of his finger. When it was clear I gathered the sopping towel from beneath his hand and vanished.

"I'm going to have you go up to the hospital wing and get an antihistamine from Madam Pomfrey," I explained to him. "Do you have a friend who would clean up your things for you?"

He looked to Mr. Creevey and the other boy nodded.

"In the future when dealing with horned slugs it will be imperative that you were gloves," I said, refraining from mentioning that I thought it disgusting that he hadn't been wearing them to begin with, or at least using a utensil to handle the slimy buggers. "Remember how this lesson went, and that you obtained a zero for the day when you wonder if you should be wearing glover or not."

He looked upset about the score, but I couldn't very well give him points when he would be unable to turn in a potion. I watched him leave the room before turning back to face the class, and I didn't realize until there was no time left to change it that it had been a mistake. When I turned back toward the class it was just in time to see the girl at the station right drop her two porcupine quills into her potion without removing it from the flame.

"Five points from Gryffindor," I snapped at the girl as the first bits of her exploding potion began to land on my skin, I had managed to throw a shield over the girl in time and my own cost. "Ms. McDonald do tell me you can see on the board where it says specifically to remove the potion from flame BEFORE adding quills?"

She stuttered seeming terrified to answer, but I was no longer looking at her. I had tightly sealed my eyes against the horrible pain of the boils erupting all over my body and it was becoming rather difficult to focus on the scared child before me.

"Zeros for the day," I heard Professor Snape's voice whip through the room, and the swell of magic suggested that he had just vanished every potion in the room. "Clean up your things and get out of my sight."

There was loud clanking noises as the students hurried to do as he told them, but I remained frozen in place with my eyes closed staunchly refusing to cry as even breathing became painful.

"Step into the office Miss Riddle," he said in a much quieter voice, that seemed to be coming from right beside me.

I attempted to open my eyes if only to head his instruction only to realize that whatever boils had erupted on my face had managed to swell my eyes shut and I was effectively blind. Not particularly willing to admit weakness in front of the students I attempted to simply walk to the office without seeing the path before me. I managed to traverse most of the room before I realized my mistake.

I had forgotten to account for Professor Snape's desk and crashed into it rather gracelessly, which I might have managed to keep people from noticing if I hadn't hissed in pain as one of my boils erupted upon impact.

"You do realize you cannot simply walk through the desk don't you," he asked quietly from behind me, and there was hardly any snark in his voice.

"I cannot see," I said as quietly as I could manage so the students would not hear. "I did not realize the desk was there until I hit it."

"Stubborn girl," he chided, and then I felt him gently take hold of the sleeve of my robe. "Follow me."

He moved slowly so he wouldn't pull me to quickly and cause me to fall. We left the students behind to finish cleaning up and he took me into his office where I was hoping there was already a bottled brew of the boil cure waiting. I wasn't sure how well I would handle waiting nearly an hour for him to brew a fresh batch. I was barely managing to keep the tears at bay as it was.

"Are you able to sit?" he asked when he had stopped pulling me forward.

"No sir," I mumbled, well aware of just how much of my body was covered with boils where the potion had soaked through my clothing.

"Very well, stand still then," he said rather kindly, and then I felt him let go of my sleeve.

I heard rustling around, and the sound of jars clinking together, and then I could smell the herbal scent that I had come to associate with him, so I knew he must be standing beside me again.

"I am going to apply the boil cure to your face," he explained as his finger landed gently on either side of my chin on some of the unaffected skin and he tilted my face up. "It should not hurt, but I shall be careful."

It was nicer than he normally chose to be, and I assumed I must look rather bad for him to bother. His other hand began to rub the potion into my skin, and I felt the relief almost immediately and I had to fight not to release an embarrassing sigh. His fingers were soft against my skin, and I was troubled by how much I liked the sensation of him rubbing my cheek. When he set to work near my eyes, I felt the moisture between his finger and my face I had a better idea why he was being so nice. Apparently I had started crying without giving myself permission, and with all the swelling and pain in my face I hadn't even known it had happened.

He didn't comment on it any further thankfully. He just kept working slowly up my face, relieving the pain and deflating the boils. I knew my skin would still look odd for the rest of the day and perhaps tomorrow as well, but at least the boils would be gone. When his fingers were working along my brow I opened my eyes once more, and I was surprised to see how closer his face was to mine. From this close I could see the dark brown flecks in his eyes and that his hair seemed to be more silky than greasy as I had once assumed it was. He was focusing on his work, but for a second his eyes flickered down to mine, and I was absolutely terrified that he might have seen a flicker of the desire I felt when his face was this close to mine. I closed my eyes to keep him from seeing any more than he might have already seen.

"Let me see your hands," he said quietly, and I complied opening my eyes again, but angling my head down to watch him work and to hide my gaze.

He worked quickly and efficiently to remove the boils from my hands as well. He was still gentle, but he seemed to be working faster, and that increased my suspicions that he realized that I had been temporarily aroused by his proximity. I forced myself to think about just how badly my limbs were hurting so any trace of it would bleed out of me, and I would not think about how he was practically holding my hands and how nice that was.

"There," he said softly, letting go of my hands. "You should be able to deal with the others on your own now."

He handed me what was left of the vial of potion in his hands before producing two more vials to place in my other hand.

"You'll need to shower it off after it's done its job as the snake fangs tend to be a skin irritant." He explained. "Floo Madam Pomfrey to your chambers if you are unable to reach your back."

And just like that he swept from the office. His pace was fast, and he seemed almost nervous. I wondered if perhaps he had been feeling something as well, but then I shook that thought from my mind as it was purely ridiculous and wishful thinking on my part. I went through the now empty classroom, and made my way back to my chambers so I could take care of the rest of my injuries.

* * *

The students were either terrified by seeing me covered in boils, or Professor Snape had torn into them in their next lesson, but the result was very attentive first years that paid very close attention to my instructions and mostly did not make mistakes on their potions. That was probably for the best, as I wasn't entirely sure that my nerves were up for another closer encounter with Professor Snape. Not to mention the rest of the treatment had been rather unpleasant and took far longer than expected.

My lessons were going better when they didn't involve the other students as well. The greenhouse was coming along nicely, and I would soon be providing the school with quite a few ingredients that had recently been purchased from the apothecary. By the beginning of October I had visited several remote locations to collect more obscure ingredients that needed to be tended in very specific environments.

Today we were venturing into the rocky mountainside on the edges of Hogsmeade so I could attempt to catch on of the wild mountain goats. They were supposed to produce the most effective bezoars, not to mention that several of their organs could be used to make other potions, and their meat was delicious and the house elves would gladly cook with it.

So I was dressed in some of the clothes I had gone out and purchased, and could have passed for a regular muggle in my loose fitting jeans and t-shirt paired with a good pair of hiking boots. Professor Snape was dressed in his regular attire, save for the robe, and I wondered if he was dying from the heat. It was a rather warm day out and he was dressed in black wool, but he wasn't complaining so I didn't say anything. I almost wanted him to say something about my t-shirt that said "This is what science looks like" but thus far he had ignored it. I wondered if he was offended by my comparison of potions to muggle science, but again I didn't ask.

"Professor Snape!" I called out when I saw a plant on the rocky slope that shouldn't have been there.

"Keep your voice down or you'll scare any goat that might be here away," he snapped before turning to look back at me. "What is it?"

"It's impossible, but I could swear that was grand wormwood," I said as I clamored closer to the silvery-green plant. "It's even flowering."

"Nonsense," he said turning to investigate the plant. "That will only grow in Africa and Eurasia."

"I swear it is," I argued as I reached the plant and lowered my face closer to the leaves. "Look at this, the leaves are arranged in a spiral, and ha! They have trichomes, this is definitely grand wormwood."

"It does smell bitter yet with a base herb scent," he answered quietly as he leaned in to sniff the plant. "And the flowers are yellow and tubular which is distinctive of the species. Good find."

That was practically a hug from another teacher, but it wouldn't do to get excited and act like an idiot over a bit of praise.

"Obviously," I sneered instead, and began digging my gloves out of my back pocket. "Turn around for a minute."

"Why?" he asked, his brow climbing up in question of my strange request.

"For reasons of propriety," I sighed as if this should have made perfect sense to him. "Now, just do it please."

He surprisingly actually did what I said, and I breathed a quick sigh of relief. The only thing I had on me that hadn't been touched by magic that I could easily wrap the plant in was my shirt, and there wasn't a chance in hell I was just going to take my shirt off in front of him. I quickly pulled my tshirt off, and transfigured my bra into a tank top that would keep everything covered but still support the important bits.

"Alright," I said noncommittally as I stowed my wand away and pulled my gloves on.

"Sometimes you really are an idiot Addi," he laughed darkly when he had turned around to see me beginning to pull branches off of the plant. "You could have just used my coat."

"It would hardly have been appropriate for me to ask you to remove your clothing," I said flippantly while keeping my attention focused on harvesting part of the plant without killing it.

"About as appropriate as you removing your clothes in front of me," he countered.

"I suppose it's a good thing I did it behind you," I clucked as I wrapped my shirt around my bounty. "And of course I am still fully dressed, so you shouldn't have any worries about my attempts to sully your virtue."

"Yes, you must remember that I am quite virtuous," he said with a lazy sneer, but I didn't miss the fact that he began scratching his left arm when he said it.

That was odd.

"Collect your spoils, and we'll head back to the castle," he said as he began a slow decent of the slope once more. "We'll pursue the goat tomorrow. The afternoon should give you time to tend the wormwood."

"Thank you," called after him as I began to follow, surprised by how quickly he was leaving me behind.

Maybe I had made him uncomfortable? Note to self don't wear tank tops around Professor Snape, and do not make jokes about virtue.

* * *

The excitement of discovering a breed of plant that shouldn't be able to live in Scotland was all but washed away in the hubbub that ensued with the crowning of the champions for the Triwizard tournament. I wished perhaps that I were surprised that Harry Potter somehow found himself involved in yet another misadventure that was highly likely to end in his death.

Professor Snape swept away quickly, and I was left feeling slightly out of place at the staff table watching the unease and outright anger start erupting throughout the great hall. Some students looked confused, and some looked suspicious, but so many of the students actually looked angry. Like a plot to kill Harry Potter personally affected them? It occurred to me that perhaps they didn't understand that a fourth year really didn't have much chance of hoodwinking a powerful magic object on his own, so it was highly more likely that someone was trying to put him into the position he was now in. Did Professor Snape have information about what had happened? Was that why he had gone with the headmaster?

I pondered those thoughts as I made my way back to my chambers to brew a new batch of wolfsbane for Remus Lupin. I had taken to brewing at odd hours because it meant that I was unlikely to be caught brewing it by Professor Snape, and thus less likely to be faced with that towering anger from the previous year. It had been months now, but he was still incredibly angry and I wasn't keen to have it directed at me again.

* * *

As an apprentice learning to tend my own ingredients, November meant a lot of pruning, and more free time as the majority of my ingredients had gone into hibernation. As someone living in the castle during such an eventful year, November meant watching five teens face their first insane task that may end in their death.

Everyone seemed enthralled and excited by an afternoon spent watching those four students battling dragons, but I found it rather disturbing. When exactly had potentially murdering children become a good idea? This whole tournament was being sold as an opportunity for cooperation between schools, and even a chance for individual students to gain a bit of notoriety, but honestly to me it felt more like a macabre nightmare that just happens to have a cash prize at the end.

Honestly I thought each round was terrifying and quite frankly horrible. The French girl caught her skirt on fire, the Bulgarian nearly got everyone trampled, Cedric Diggory actually caught his head on fire, and Harry Potter was gored in the arm by one of the many horns on his dragon. So essentially I spent the entire afternoon trying not to vomit, not exactly what I consider fun.

* * *

"I assume you have gathered from the many tittering students that the Yule Ball is approaching," Professor Snape said a bit sardonically from where he stood at the front of the lab.

"I have," I answered without looking up from slicing my daisy roots.

"I have just been informed by the headmaster has just informed me that all those who teach at Hogwarts will be required to attend the festivities, whether they like it or not," he drawled.

"My apologies sir," I said, offering him a brief smile of condolence before returning to my roots.

"Ah, you misunderstand me." He said drawing my attention back to him and his growing smirk. "He said all teachers."

"Perhaps you can get off on a technicality then," I said with a shrug. "You after all are a professor."

For a moment he looked like he might actually laugh, but he quickly schooled his features.

"Not only will I be forced to attend, I will not be alone," he said with a dark grin. "As of September you fall into the category of people who teach at Hogwarts."

"Well I'd really love to attend, but I have a prior arrangement that I simply can't get out of," I said swiftly but with as much sincerity as I could fake on no notice whatsoever.

"I will give you the same speech that the headmaster gave me then," he said with humor dancing in his eyes. "Your employment is dependent, or in your case, your continued apprenticeship."

"Dancing hardly seems relevant to potion brewing," I grumbled as I abandoned my slicing for shameless pouting.

"You'll find no opposition to that argument here," he said with amusement. "However we shall still be forced to comply."

"I shall be expecting you to be quite entertaining if you are going to make me attend a dance," I grumbled as I returned to my brewing.

"I will bring my best sarcastic jokes," he said with a huffed laugh. "Finish your potion, I have a lesson to teach."

He swept out of the room and left me to my work. It wasn't until the door swung shut behind him that I allowed myself a smile. I was going to my very first formal dance, and if I was not mistake, Professor Snape had inadvertently agreed to be my date. It wouldn't end up being a romantic date, but this crush I had on him was hopeless enough that I was looking forward to spending the evening with him in a professional way.

* * *

It had meant a bit of last minute shopping, but I was able to put together an outfit to wear to the dance. I thought it was quite nice, I was just hoping that it might actually catch a certain someone's attention. Of course I had chosen a dress in green, I was a Slytherin through and through, but the draped chiffon blended from one subtle shade of green to another giving it a sophisticated feel rather than shouting 'hey, I'm a snake.'

I even sprung for a set of rather convincing fake diamond earrings and a bracelet. Pairing that with not only bothering to actually do something with my hair, but styling it into a chignon made me look almost beautiful. If I was ever going to have a shot at Professor Snape noticing me, tonight was the night.

I briefly considered putting on some sort of perfume, but with a last minute burst of inspiration I grabbed a tiny pinch of ground Runespoor scale from my wolfsbane ingredients and sprinkled it on the flower adornment on my dress. The scales had a spicy scent to them, but in the potion they were meant to encourage a dreamlike state, so I was hoping in a small dose that the aroma would simply put anyone in my vicinity into a good mood.

There was a knock at the door, and I turned to stare at it nervously. Now that Christmas was here I was a little terrified of the prospect of a would be date with Professor Snape. I put on my best Slytherin game face, and plastered a smile on my face before hurrying over to open the door.

"Hello Professor," I said cheerfully, my nerves melting away when I saw that he had chosen to wear his everyday teaching robes to the all. "Professor Dumbledore is going to give you a hard time tonight about your clothing."

"Perhaps I shall endeavor to place you in between us so that he might find himself distracted by your attire and ignore mine," he said in a surprisingly suave voice as he grabbed my hand in sweeping gesture and placed a kiss on my knuckles before dropping my hand. "You look very nice Miss Riddle."

I was flummoxed as to how to react to that. I wasn't sure that I was still breathing as I thought about what it had felt like to have his lips against my skin. I was far too aware of the fact that I was blushing.

"Thank you," I said as I managed to pull my proverbial feet back under me. "You might want to be careful getting too close to me, it seems that my choice of perfume has already had an effect on you."

"Ah, I thought I smelled Runespoor," he said with a nod as he stepped back into the corridor and waited patiently for me to join him. "You are right that my behavior was out of character, though not directly related to your potions ingredients. It was also however completely out line. I am your teacher, and a teacher does not kiss their students hand. I apologize for the impropriety."

And again I stopped breathing, but this time it was less exhilarating. How had I managed to ruin my chance so quickly? He wasn't wrong about potential propriety issues, but I still wanted him to kiss my hand.

"Apology accepted," I said in my most convincing voice as I forced myself to smile no matter how awful I was feeling. "Lead the way to our slow painful deaths."

"I'm sure we'll be begging for it by the end of this ball," he chuckled as he set off ahead of me on the path out of the dungeons.

At least he could still laugh. I rather felt like drowning myself in the lake. At this particular moment I was glad that he hadn't said anything about the first edition potion master's brewing anthology I had gotten him, and I was far too embarrassed and frankly depressed by the turn of events to voice my thanks for the silver stiring rods designed to look like snakes with green eyes that I suspected to be real emeralds.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Song for this chapter: Dance Floor Anthem by Good Charlotte**_

* * *

Something inside of me broke as I made the trek up to the great hall with the burgeoning realization that even if he ever felt anything for me, Professor Snape would never pursue it. I locked away the sweetness of his lips pressed against my hand, but then I let go of anything else that hinted toward feelings for him. The only answer I could think of for getting past it, was to pretend that it had not ever existed.

So I threw myself into the act whole-heatedly, starting with how to enjoy my evening when I no longer had even a remote interest in attending the ball. I sat beside him during the meal because it was expected of me, I clapped and smiled at his side while the champions opened the dance, but then I melted into the crowd and acted entirely out of character. I spent the evening making friends with the boys from Durmstrang and enjoying my first dances with someone who was not my father.

I ended up imbibing in punch that had been spiked by one of the boys, and I even kissed one of them on the cheek. I was completely out of control when compared to my usual behavior, but in reality I could not have been making much of a scene or it is likely that Professor Snape would have intervened. By the end of the evening I had several guys who wanted to be my friend, and I had almost forgotten that the heart didn't seem to beating in my chest anymore. It was as close to success as I was going to get.

* * *

Spending so much one on one time studying with Professor Snape was difficult after Christmas, but it was imperative that I teach myself to see him as an authority figure rather than a romantic interest once more. In order to accomplish that I threw myself into my work with such fervor that I would have been risking an intervention about my sleep habits if he had not been so distracted with whatever it was that was going on in his personal life that had him growing surlier by the day.

I fell into a pattern of only attending meals in the great hall on Mondays when I was technically a teacher and it felt obligatory. At all other times I took what could pass for a meal however small it might be in my rooms while I worked on my potions. It was getting to the point that I should probably know the house elves by name, as there was always one there dropping off food, or picking it up and looking upset if I hadn't eaten it all due to my distraction.

I had erected a tiny makeshift lab in my room to accommodate my wolfsbane contract at the beginning of the year, but as I began avoiding the private lab my own lab began to grow. Soon there was equipment covering my desk and the wardrobe that I had turned on its side for more table space. My clothes now hung from the top of my four poster bed, and my room looked like it might be inhabited by a squatter of some sort.

Professor Snape seemed to at least be aware of how little time I was spending in the lab that we shared, but my attendance to his weekend lessons, teaching of his Monday lesson, and continued stocking of the hospital stores kept him from saying anything to me. I even managed to push through more vaccination potions for testing at St. Mungos. However, getting all of these things done in tandem led to staying up quite late and getting up far too early. The entirely situation combined to create a scenario where I didn't even have time to think about feelings for a certain dark wizard, and in many ways they began to fade. So long as I didn't look at him to closely, or focus on him for too long.

* * *

I stopped paying attention to the Triwizard tournament, no longer even attending the challenges. Which is perhaps why I was so blindsided by the backlash of the last challenge. I hadn't been there to see the worst of it, but even I could not ignore the whispers that roved continually through the great hall the next morning. I couldn't ignore the fact that a student had died, yet it somehow paled in comparison to the stories that were running around questioning whether or not it was true that He Who Must Not Be Named had returned.

Many of the students appeared to be in denial about it, and argued that it wasn't possible, but there was a cold and sick feeling in my stomach that made me think it was more than likely true. I didn't put much stock in divination, but I had always trusted my own instincts, and right now they were screaming that this was the truth. My gut also told me to be afraid. It didn't seem to me that anything good could come from an evil man coming back from the dead, and nothing good could come to me when I bore his last name. Especially knowing that it was more than likely him who had killed off most of my family.

I stayed at the castle long enough to see the end of the year, and attend the makeshift memorial for Cedric Diggory. I sat awkwardly with a distant and rather quiet Professor Snape for the better part of a day before I told him I was going to be spending the majority of my summer on holiday, but he could send me post if he needed me for something. And then I fled the castle with the intention of hiding away amongst muggles while I waited to see how the tides would turn in the wizarding world.

* * *

I was surprisingly more prepared for finding a place to live during the summer than I had been last year. It helped that the conversion rate from wizarding gold to muggle cash was in my favor. I found a room for rent in the paper, and scooped it up with a promptly paid down payment that made me seem like a much more appealing tenant than all of those who had been interested. Then it was simply a matter of finding a job, and luck was in my favor when the coffee shop down the street put out a sign saying they needed a waitress. I applied for the job in the morning, and had a work schedule in my hand by the evening.

I settled in to working far more hours at the coffee shop than I had for the Three Broomsticks, but I found that the work was far less taxing. I served the tables, and occasionally made the brews if the barista was overloaded. I was expected to talk to the customers, but none of them knew who I was so the conversation was far less taxing than the clientele in Hogsmeade that wanted to hear about my work, and what it was like to work with Severus Snape.

When I wasn't at the shop, I hid away in my flat opting to order in takeaway as much as possible and avoid going out in public altogether. I was reading the paper daily, and while it painted some interesting pictures of Harry Potter and Professor Dumbledore it didn't actually give me much information about what He Who Must Not Be Named was up too.

I had hijacked several books from the library that spoke of the last war, paying particular attention to the books that spoke directly about the evil git, and his followers. I wasn't an expert by any means, but I was growing suspicious that the growing crime rate in the nearby neighborhoods had something to do with those Death Eaters. There seemed to be a few too many unexplained disappearances, or crimes that the police couldn't solve in general. Still it seemed safer for me in my little muggle bubble that it would be if I were out in the open, working for some wizarding establishment flashing my name about for anybody to see.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Song for this chapter: I'm Wide Awake by Katy Perry**_

* * *

Through my evasive and mostly hermit like actions during the summer I managed to avoid any interaction with magic folk. I was almost proud of myself for sticking to my name and being a noble serpent with my ability to wait patiently while hidden away. I supposed I was not modeling the other components of my name such as sensitive or unforgiving during this vacation, but I had been continually doing that throughout my life had I not?

I had grown to hate my name a bit this summer though. My muggle coworkers insisted on calling me Adeline rather than Adele and it frustrated me to no end. I blamed it almost entirely for my choice not to make friends with any of them. Learning to make friends was perhaps a skill that I should work on, as I didn't seem to have any now that I was avoiding Professor Snape. Come to think of it could I really consider him a friend when I was not even able to say his first name?

Whether or not we were on casual terms, I considered him a friend, and even though things were strained I still found I was romantically interested in him. That was the never ending debate I was having with myself as I wandered through the Tesco just down the house from my house trying to find something remotely appealing to have for dinner. It was perhaps my internal monologue that kept me from immediately noticing the change in the atmosphere around me.

I had been staring at a package of instant pasta, debating if it was really something I wanted to eat and basically just ignoring the sound of inane chatter around me. It wasn't until I picked up a can of tuna that I noticed that the place had gone eerily silent. I turned my head to the side to look around, and I saw that there were three men in black robes with silver masks standing in the doorway.

The silence stretched for another moment, and I reached out to carefully return the tuna to the shelf. Then the men drew their wands, and though the muggles couldn't have possibly know just how much trouble they were in the began to scurry away from them. When the first flash of red light shot through the air, the shoppers began screaming, and the shop owner collapsed to the ground, succumbing to the stunner instantly.

I crouched down so my head was hidden by the shelves, but I could still see what I now realized were death eaters as they moved throughout the shop. I drew my wand from within my sleeve and tried to guess if I would be better of trying to defend myself or simply pulling a runner.

I sunk down closer to the floor when I heard a woman started screaming and making horrible screeching sounds. I duck walked to the end of the isle so I could get a better look, and my stomach turned when I saw that one of the masked men had her in the grip of the cruciatus and he was not relenting. I smelt when she lost control of her bladder, and my stomach turned. This was wrong, and I knew I should help her, but I was absolutely terrified. I wasn't sure I had it in me to risk my life for a woman I didn't know.

I cast a silent redactor at the wall behind the man that was curing her, before scurrying away from my position on the chance that he could figure out the trajectory of where the curse had come from.

"Do not damage the building you imbecile," a sharp voice called out from behind a silver mask and it felt as if I had swallowed ice.

I was certain that I recognized that voice, but surely not. I must be wrong. I couldn't even feel the relief that the man had assumed that a death eater had cast the curse over the growing tightness in my chest. I needed to see the man who spoke. I needed to be certain of it that was the voice I was so used to hearing.

I crawled to the end of the aisle, moving closer to where I had heard the voice come from, and then I saw him. The man was wearing black flowing robes that hid most of his form, and the hood was pulled up so I could not see his hair. The silver mask obscured his face, so there was no way to tell if I knew him. I needed him to speak again, but he seemed preoccupied with binding him captive with the ropes issuing from his wand.

I clutched my wand tightly in my hand as I came to a decision. I had to pray that my spell work would be faster than his if I was going to have any hope of getting out of this alive. I silently cast a spell to vanish the mask from his face, and then I bit down hard on my lip to keep from gasping when his face was revealed to me. I was already apparating away when his head snapped to the side to see who had done it. I couldn't be positive, but I was mostly sure that he hadn't seen my face.

With a crack I appeared on the floor of my living room with the taste of blood in my mouth from how hard I had bitten my lip. I shakily wiped the blood away as I tried to get my breathing under control. It wasn't possible! I spent nearly every day of my life with him, surely I should have seen some sort of sign that Professor Snape was a death eater!

I was vaguely aware that I was hyperventilating as I slumped forward and let my head rest on the floor beneath me, but I couldn't find it in my to care. I knew I was crying as the carpet grew wet beneath my face, but I didn't do anything to stop it. I just lay there, my body prostate as if I were in prayer as I lamented the loss of everything I had ever known.

I was terribly saddened to discover that my only friend was a dark wizard, but more than that I was terrified. I was afraid of what I knew he was doing, and I was afraid of what he might do to me. If he ever discovered that I knew what he was he was certain to kill me, and my stomach turned at the thought that he likely wouldn't even care when he did it.

What was I supposed to do? Should I run away? Should I give up magic entirely? I couldn't think straight as my vision grew fuzzy from lack of air. I tried to settle my breathing, but it was to no avail. I fist my hands in the carpet, trying to hold onto some semblance of reality as the world unraveled around me, but I knew it was no use. I had worked myself into a right fit, and I was certain that I was about to pass out with my face pressed into the carpet. At least there wasn't anyone here to see it.

I slowly admitted defeat, and allowed the growing darkness to take me. Perhaps when I awoke it would be to discover that all of this had been a dream, and I hadn't even gotten out of bed for the day yet. I prayed that would be the case because I couldn't stomach the truth.

* * *

A new reality did not come with the morning sun. I felt a sense of clarity, but it was buried beneath weight in my chest and the pain in my back from how I had slept. I tried to keep my mind absolutely blank as I went through the motions of taking a shower and preparing for the day.

I wasn't sure of what I should do now. I knew in my gut that I couldn't just abandon the magical world, I had given up everything that I knew from my old life to attend Hogwarts, and it meant to much to me now to throw it away. But I wasn't sure how to return. Could I still work under Professor Snape knowing what I knew now?

It was with dread settling in my gut that I realized I would have too. I was about to start my fourth year in my apprenticeship, it was far too late in the game to start searching for a new master to study under. Not to mention the fact that Professor Snape was the only master in all of the British Isles. No I would have to finish out the next three years with him, and pray that I somehow survived them.

I could continue my behavior from last year, and avoid his company at all costs. Perhaps I could even find a way to limit how much of my weekends were spent in his lessons. I would just need to convince him that he didn't have the time to devote to me without him realizing what I was doing.

I didn't feel hopeful about the prospect of returning to Hogwarts, but at least some of the fear had faded by the time the sun began to set once more.


	7. Chapter 7

_**Songs for this chapter: Remember the Name by Fort Minor and Funhouse by Pink  
**_

* * *

The answer came to me as I stood at my window watching a building nearby burn to the ground. There was a surprising lack of fear as I watched the death eaters work methodically through my neighborhood looking for the magical person who had been in the Tesco during their attack. So far the only thing that had kept me safe was the fact that I hadn't used any magic in my flat this summer. Other than my apparition, there was nothing for them to trace, and they hadn't discovered that particular trail yet.

I was watching the flames, searching my soul for the right answer, when it hit me that I had a responsibility to stop these people. I knew in my heart that I had no real shot against them in a magical duel, they had been using combative magic for years, and I had never used it outside of the classroom. But I came from a far different background than these men. I could learn to fight them as if I were a muggle, but with the benefits of having magic. I had a responsibility to fight them, not just because they were raining terror on my neighbors, but because it was my own blood that had started this war.

Tom Riddle. I gripped the window sill tighter just thinking his name. I listened to the sound of the fire engines, watched the towering flames, and allowed my anger to harden me. I would end him, and I would start by destroying his followers.

I walked away from the window, and went to find something to wear that would obscure my identity as I fled the neighborhood. I'd never really tried to hide who I was, so the best I could do was pull a hat down low so it partially blocked my face from the view of others. For good measure I braided my hair, as it was something I would never do, so it might turn eyes that sought me out away. I kept my wand on me, as I was likely to have to confund my way into the program I was seeking out, but other than that I had no intention of using magic for this.

I kept a low profile as I boarded a train that took me to downtown London where I knew the Government Communications Head Quarters were. The Secret Intelligence Service would be located somewhere in that building, and that would be the place I would find the best training there was to offer. I worked up a story in my head about how the Defense Intelligence department was transferring me over because my skills would be better utilized and honed in their department. I was prepared to confund whoever I spoke to, and forge any paperwork that I needed to.

I was unsure of what name I should use, but as I disembarked the train and started walking toward headquarters, I made the decision to pretend I was from the north, and I began practicing an effected accent as I walked.

Luck was with me when I arrived at the office. There was only one man at the desk, I could complete any spell work I needed without witnesses.

"Hello," I said in my harshest accent, as I casual lowered my wand from my sleeve. "I am here for training."

The middle aged man looked at me, seeming to think about what I said, before pulling out a manila folder and looking through it.

"The only trainee we were support to gain this week was from Manchester, and we were under the impression that she had backed out," he said cryptically while looking at his folder. "Are you Alice Mitchell."

"I am," I lied quickly casting a subtle confundus, just enough to confuse him into believing me.

"Your picture looks a little different, perhaps its because you are wearing makeup in it," he said, and I increased the strength of my spell.

"May I see it?" I asked sweetly, and he handed the folder over without question.

First I created a duplicate, my hand moving swiftly beneath the counter where he could not see, and I tucked it away in my pocket. Then I altered the image in the folder so it looked exactly like me, and I returned the folder to the man at the desk.

"Take another look sir, I think it looks exactly like me," I said with a smile.

"My mistake," he said in a distracted voice as he looked at the picture once more. "I hadn't filed your cancellation paperwork yet so Mr. Shaw is still expecting you to make an appearance in the gym tonight." He said sheepishly, and I wondered how much trouble he would have been in when no one named Alice Mitchell had showed up tonight. "If you want to proceed through the door on the left I will get you started on all of your paperwork, and we'll have you ready in time to start your training."

* * *

I had a vague idea of what I should expect when I decided to essentially train as a spy in an effort to prepare myself for this fight, but I had no idea what it would really be like. Mr. Shaw had been dismayed at my appearance when I had arrived in the gym, and had immediately demanded that I give my time over to him indefinitely if he was going to have me ready in time for some mission I would supposedly be working on in a few weeks' time. I suppose it was for the best that he not know I would be simply disappearing in a month, in order to return to Hogwarts.

He had put me through my paces that first night, running me until I was raged. He had me running, jumping, crawling, flipping. He had me doing everything I could do, and pushing me into things that I couldn't actually do. My body was drenched in sweat, and I had the beginnings of what promised to be painful bruises by the end of the first night. He told me to get out of his sight when midnight rolled around, but demanded that I be back in his gym at six in the morning.

I discovered that night that there was a locker room near the gym that had a shower as well as a bench. That was all it took for me to decided I wasn't going to bother going all the way home only to have to return in a few hours' time. I grabbed a shower, sought out a vending machine for something to eat, and then I curled up on the bench and I slept for a few hours before the morning crew arrived to prepare for a day in the gym, and I was forced to get up.

* * *

Mr. Shaw had an assistant the next morning, and she seemed more aware of the fact that I might have needs that needed to be met in between wind sprints. She provided me with a pair of shorts and a tank top that matched all of the other people I saw training throughout the gym as well as a card that would get me into the mess hall for food during my breaks. I had a few moments for stretching and trying to wake up, but the it was time to start training in earnest again.

For the first half of the day Mr. Shaw had me doing cardio and strength training, and soon I was drenched in sweat again, but I noticed that once I was moving again I didn't notice how sore I was anymore. As long as I kept breathing deeply, I could mostly keep up with what he was ordering me to do. I was nowhere near the level of the other people I saw training in the gym though.

After the lunch break he took me to the mats and he began teaching me how to fight. He wore black pads on his hands, and shouted orders at me as he put me through my paces and taught me the correct way to hit. My muscles screamed in protest as I continued to punch and kick well past when my body was too tired to keep moving. I felt my mid shut off entirely as I struggled to comply with his instructions, and it was only then when I was no longer thinking that he began to compliment me for complying to his instructions completely.

* * *

After that first full day I committed myself to shutting off my mind as I forced my body to learn how to fight. I gained more bruises each day, but when the black pads disappeared, Mr. Shaw started to get bruises as well. By the end of the first week I was visibly quicker, and my punches hit a little harder. When I took my showers I started to notice muscles gaining definition in my body and I was proud enough that it made up for how terribly sore I was. I spent each night on a bench in the locker room, deciding that I simply wouldn't leave this building until it was time for me to return to Hogwarts. There was a disturbingly high chance that I didn't have a flat to return to anymore anyway.

By the second week I was beating Mr. Shaw to the gym. I would be through my stretches and well into my beginning cardio workouts when he made his way into the gym. He seemed pleased to see that while I could not do a single pull-up when I entered his gym, I know what felt like millions of them without complaint. I committed myself entirely to changing how my body worked, and that seemed to help me learn more quickly.

By the end of the second week Mr. Shaw had me fighting with some of the better trained agents. They beat me each time, but I was gaining skill, and I was starting to turn the tide in how the fights played out. I almost wished I had gone out for quidditch or something during my schooling, because I was learning that my body was inclined to be athletic. I was actually good at this. Mr. Shaw was calling me a natural when I started picking up skills quicker and quicker.

By the end of the third week I could incapacitate an attack in a fight within five minutes. I could run for nearly an hour before I wanted to collapse, and Mr. Shaw had given up counting my sit ups and pul-ups entirely. I was now training with the elite agents at all time, and sometimes I did better than them. There was talk about me going out on missions soon, but I brushed it off, instead pushing myself to run fast, to hit harder.

The fourth week was my last week, and it was also the week that Mr. Shaw put me in a fight against Agent Bristow who was undefeated in the gym. We had both been working out all day when the fight challenge was announced, but you couldn't tell Bristow had even been in the gym he didn't seem to have a spot of sweat on him. I fought to push down the fear of how hard he was going to hit me as I joined him on the mats.

The other agents cleared out leaving the entire floor open for us. I looked around and saw that we were on the matt closest the punching bags, and I flied that away for later use as I turned to face Bristow. We were wearing the same black shoes, blue shorts, and white tank tops, but he seemed so much more intimidating. His hair was cropped short, and he was all bulging muscle. I looked pathetic in comparison, covered in sweat, my hair falling out of its pony tail from my exertions. It seemed a forgone conclusion of how the fight would end when we shook hand politely in the middle of the mat.

I gained my first bit of confidence when he swing with his left and I dodged his punch easily, landing one of my own on his abs before I ducked out of his reach once more. He grunted at me as he swept forward bring his right fist around with surprising speed. I threw my head back, bending at the waist so he punched over the top of me, but I felt myself falling toward the floor. I fell back to the practice of allowing my body to be in control rather than mine, and I went with the fall.

I flipped in the air as I approached the ground, catching myself on my hands, as I kicked my legs around and caught Bristow at the ankles. He staggered, but managed to keep his feet as he backed away from me, giving me a chance to regain my own feet. I advanced on him, and his left leg moved with startling speed to kick me. I allowed his leg to collide with my side, knocking the air from my lungs, as I caught it with my arm and held it tightly to me. I stepped forward, still holding his leg and kicked his right knee out from under him.

I could see it in his eyes when he knew he was in trouble and we both began to fall toward the floor. But I also saw it in his eye when he decided what he would do next. He rolled swiftly to the left, first pinning my arm, then pinning my entire body beneath him. I was in trouble, and he was in position to land a punch that would end the fight. His fist was coming down and all I could do was throw up my arm to keep it from colliding with my face. Pain erupted in my arm from how hard he had hit me, but I focused instead on throwing two quick jabs into his face while he was drawing back to attempt a second punch.

When his head was titled back from the force of my punch I bucked my hips to upset his balance, and I rolled us over once more to put myself on top of him. I landed three punches on the side of his head in quick succession. I saw the lost focus in his eyes, and I knew he was close to going under, but more than that I could feel his anger. He had never been beaten in this gym, and he certainly didn't want the first time to be by a tiny thing of a girl that had only appeared a few weeks ago.

He dug deep to find the strength he used to throw me off of him, and I was sent sprawling across the floor, struggling to regain my footing as be bore down on me. He seemed to find some previously untapped strength which he used as he began raining blows on me. The punches that made contact felt like they may be breaking bones, but I struggled on to keep them from landing. I dodged and swayed throwing kicks when I could, but I had the sinking feeling that the tide had just changed dramatically in the fight. I needed to take him out of it entirely, but he was bigger and stronger than me. For the first time in weeks I engaged my mind once more, and the answer seemed simple, I wouldn't defeat him with strength he was clearly stronger than me, but I knew that I was faster than him, that was the way to go.

I dodged another blow, and ducked under his arm while he was still extended. As he pulled back into his stance, I used my speed to throw myself behind him and I used a flying leap to land myself on his shoulders. He bucked trying to get me off, but I managed to get one arm around his head another around his throat. I felt the spike in his heart rate when he realized I had him. He threw himself back, crashing us into the ground, his weight forcing all of the air from my lungs, but I held strong, increasing the strength of my hold on him.

I heard the change in hi breathing that told me my choke hold was working, but he still managed to roll onto his front as he tried to break my hold on him. I was barely keeping my seating on his back as he struggled, but ever so slowly the strength of his bucking went out. He grew weaker, and his body began slumping toward the floor as he clawed at my hands. I waited a second longer to make the point that I had won, but then I released him so he would not suffocate.

I could hear cheering as I stepped away from him, but it seemed to be from a distance. My breathing seemed far too loud in my ears, somehow echoing as I watched Bristow pull him slowly up from the floor. He turned to face me, and I saw that at some point I had busted his lip open, but he didn't seem to care as he wiped the blood away. He gave me a brief smile before he extended his hand once more. I reached out to shake his hand, and stopped breathing entirely when he jerked me forward and held me tightly against his chest. I thought he was going to try and fight me again, and my heart started to race at the realizing that I was in the worst position to try and defend myself with my arms pined to my sides as I was held in his bear hug.

"In a fight I want you on my side," he growled in my ear with a chuckle, and then he released me.

I stood there stunned as he flashed me another smile, and laughed as he walked off the mats. Somehow I thought his reaction to finally losing in the gym would have been more volatile. He almost seemed amused that someone had finally beaten him. A tiny girl no less.

I was sure of two things as I left the mat. The first was that I was likely to be a legend in this gym now. The second was that my training was done. I was at a level that no wizard would be prepared for, and it was time for me to leave. I needed to return to school once more anyway.

I walked out of the gym while the cheering and chatter was still happening, and made my way up from the bowels of the professional building and walked out into the failing sunlight where day was turning into night. I looked like I was from another planet passing people dressed in business suits while I was wearing athletic clothing, covered in sweat, and if I was not much mistaken bleeding from a head wound on my hair line. My hair was a mess and I looked a wreck, but there was something warm boiling up from my stomach at the realization that if it came to it, I could fight for my life, and it was likely that I would actually win.

I was relieved to see my apartment still standing, though slightly surprised to discover an owl tapping at my window with a letter for me. I knew that black owl, yet somehow I hadn't expected Professor Snape to send for me this yea. I had almost forgotten about my apprenticeship. I took the letter, let the owl back out and headed for the shower.

I shed my uniform, and with it the name Alice Mitchell. As far that the SIS was concerned she would have simply vanished. If they somehow managed to trace the path I had taken when they left, they would find a flat rented by Adeline Riddle, who had in fact just relinquished her lease, and the would not be able to trace me back to Hogwarts.

I washed away the sweat and the blood, and aside from the somewhat noticeable definition to my body, I looked like the Adele that everyone at Hogwarts knew when I dressed in my skirt and blouse, and pulled my robes on once more.

I could tell by the date on the letter that Professor Snape's owl had been trying to find me for a while. While the letter said to return to the castle in a weeks' time, I had received it late, and I was actually running behind. I should have been at the castle this morning, and I was likely in for quite the scolding when I did show up. I hurried to throw all of my things into my trunk, relenting on the no magic rule I had made for myself this summer in order to save time. Within a half hour of returning to the flat I had showered, packed all of my things away, set my keys on the coffee table in the living room with money for another month's rent since I hadn't given notice and a short note saying that I no longer lived there, and I was on my way.

I found a dark alley, now that the sun had set entirely, and I apparated to the gates of Hogwarts. I had shrunk my trunk down to fit in my pocket, so there was nothing to hinder me as I ran up to the castle. I covered the grass in record time, and I didn't break a sweat or start breathing hard. Which was probably for the best, as the first person I ran into upon entering the castle was Professor Snape.

"You are very late," he said sternly, folding his arms over his chest.

"My apologies sir," I said with a bow of the head that I hoped distracted him from just how irreverent my voice had sounded. "I was out of the country on holiday, I only just received your letter half an hour ago."

"You could have taken the time to pack your things then Miss Riddle," he said, his face softening a fraction, and I realized with a start that I felt nothing at the sight of his kindness.

I was too angry to be moved by the things that had endeared me to him before. I was aware that on some level I seemed to still want him, but I no longer seemed to be in love with him. Instead I wanted to treat him the way I had treated Bristow earlier today.

"I did sir," I said quietly. "I should probably take them down to my chambers. Shall we start lessons in the morning?"

"We shall," he said, his brow quirked as he watched me hurry away from him.

I would have to do a better job at convincing him that I hadn't changed at all.


	8. Chapter 8

_**Song for this chapter: Lights by Ellie Goulding**_

* * *

Professor Snape informed me that I would be teaching all first and second year lessons this year, and proceeded to hand over all of his lesson plans and send me on my way to study them. I bit back my retort about what he was planning to do with the extra free time and went quietly to my chambers. I remembered my potion lessons throughout the years perfectly, so I didn't really need to review the syllabus to know what I would be teaching. Instead I set the stack of parchment to the side, and settled in to doing a basic workout on the floor by my bed while I tried to think.

Being in such close proximity to a wizard again made me realize that I was going to have to do more than just defeat them in a fight. The skills I had learned during the summer would keep me alive, but if I wanted to bring down the death eaters, I was going to need something else. Two different ideas occurred to me as I went through the routing for my abs. The first was that I was going to have to perfect my wandless magic so I could keep my hands free while fighting, and the second was that I had already thought of a fairly efficient weapon to use against the death eaters in the second year of my apprenticeship.

I abandoned my work out and dug out my notes on the potion that could temporarily suppress magic. I looked over my notes on billingsroot and began calculations on how long it would actually eradicate a person's ability to do magic. The more that was added to the potion the longer the period without magic was, but no amount seemed to completely bind the magic. I thought about it, and realized that the potion would have to somehow poison the body while attacking the magic, and when the body tried to fight off the outside agent, it would most likely view the magic as a hostile attacker as well and push it out of the body on its own.

The question was which poison to use when my intent wasn't to kill the person. It was important to me that I hold onto the part of me that wasn't dark, and that meant not playing the same game as my enemy. I would not torture or kill my victims, I would simply remove their ability to pose a threat to me. Not to mention the fact that too many death eaters dying would draw too much attention to what was happening, if an epidemic of lost magic started they might not actually look for a person as the root cause, instead suspecting a cursed object or something along those lines.

Hemlock seemed to be the best fit with billingsroot. I would just have to be careful how much I added to the potion so as not to poison my targets. Both ingredients were going to have to be specially ordered, and I was going to have to find a way to do so without Professor Snape getting word of it. That mean I would have to order it from outside the country, and I was going to have to pay for it out of pocket rather than billing it to the school. Frankly I shouldn't put an expense like that on the school anyway, but the hemlock was going to be quite expensive, so the thought was tempting. No potion existed using these two ingredients that would throw up red flags, but I thought it best to order them from separate apothecaries just to be safe.

* * *

The first bump in the road of my secret research was when Professor Snape stopped by my chambers to see me, most likely because I still wasn't brewing in the lab.

"Are you intending to do all of your work in your bedroom this year?" he asked from the hallway, as I had only opened the door far enough to see him, and certainly hadn't invited him inside.

"Well, I am frequently working with ingredients for wolfsbane, and I know you don't want to see those," I said with my most contrite face. "So I thought it best to simply do my work somewhere that wouldn't bother you."

"You can't be brewing wolfsbane right now, that doesn't smell at all right," he said pointedly, forcing the door open quickly.

I had to override my instinct to keep him from doing it, it simply wouldn't do to reveal that I was strong enough to keep him from forcing his way into my chambers if I wanted to. I let him go over and investigate the miniature lab set up on my furniture, and it wasn't until he was sniffing my potion that it occurred to me that he might be able to figure out what I was brewing.

"I thought you had sworn off combative potions," he asked, turning to look at me with quirked brow. "This smells an awful lot like the stunning potion, though the color is off."

"It has similar ingredients I suppose," I said dipping my head and trying to look more innocent than I felt. "But this potion should treat flesh eating bacteria if I have gotten it right."

"Very well, keep up the good work," he said with a swift nod. "I must require that you spend more time brewing in the lab however, so I might supervise and instruct you. I am supposed to be your potions master after all."

"Yes sir," I nodded quickly. "I will have my research moved in there by tomorrow morning."

He swept back out of the room, and as soon as the door had latched shut once more I began cursing. Not only was I going to have to be in close proximity to him again, but I was going to have to stay up all night creating research on the potion I just lied about brewing so I would have something to show when he came to investigate.

The only positive was that I got a chance to practice my wandless magic as I summoned my research materials to me, and began searching through multiple sources at the same time with the aid of magic. I had gotten to the point where I rarely even drew my wand anymore, of course I wasn't sure if I should reveal that to Professor Snape in the lab.

* * *

I spent Mondays and Wednesday in the classroom trying to coax some semblance of competence out of the students, and though I know hated him with most of my being, I was growing to understand why Professor Snape hated students so much. They really were a bunch of idiots. I managed to forget y anger with them when I returned to the lab.

I had forgotten how much I loved the lab, and it didn't hurt that I had room to spread out once more. I opted to use my wandless magic in front of Professor Snape so I might be more efficient with my potions. It was a risk, but I was hoping he wouldn't connect it to anything other than attempting to save time. I was turning out medical potions both for the hospital wing, and for my own private research rapidly, and most days Professor Snape was working quietly alongside me on his own projects.

When he was silent, and we were working efficiently in the lab, it was far too easy for me to remember what it was that attracted me to him. I found that I had to repeat in my head over and over again that he was a death eater so I wouldn't find myself drooling over the way he swept gracefully through the lab as he worked.

"You have far surpassed where I expected you to be in the fourth year of your apprenticeship," he said on day shortly before Christmas break. "In some ways you have surpassed my own abilities, and I find that almost disturbing. I am going to give you time off from now until we return from Christmas break. You've been spending so much time in the lab that I think you need to take some time and just enjoy yourself."

A year ago I would have been grateful for that, today I was suspicious of what he planned to do while I was gone.

"Ok," I said as I finished corking the vials of pepper up I had just finished for Madam Pomfrey. "Do you want to take over lessons for the next two weeks then as well?"

"That will be fine. You could use some time out of the castle." He said, still focusing on his potion.

Again I was suspicious, but I said nothing. I just nodded my assent to his plan and collected all of my brewed potions to deliver to the hospital wing.

"I suppose I shall see you after the New Year then." I said with a respectful nod of the head before disappearing from the lab.

* * *

I took advantage of the time away from the castle and Professor Snape to throw myself back into my training full force. I found a gym on the outskirts of London where cage fighting took place, and that gave me a chance to fight against an actual person instead of beating the life from my pillows in my cramped bedroom.

I delved into a murkier life, and sought out wizards of a lower caliber, such as those who associated with Mundungus Fletcher, looking for someone worthy of testing my potion. I was a risk, as the potion could seriously poison them, so I didn't want to test it on someone who wasn't deserving of something so painful.

I eventually found a rather scuzzy wizard on the edges of Knockturn Alley, and I made a point to 'accidentally' drop my flask of 'alcohol' as I staggered 'drunkenly' past him. The man did not disappoint, he scooped my flask up like it was made of gold, and immediately began chugging the contents. The reaction was immediate when he realized it didn't taste like drink, but instead like potion. He spat the last bit out, but I knew he had already consumed enough for me to know if the potion was going to do what I wanted it too.

"Sir I've lost my flask, have you seen it?" I asked as I hurried back over to him.

"What was in that?" he snapped at me, as if I had offered it to him and told him it would be whiskey.

"It's a potion I was supposed to deliver to Bourgin, you didn't drink it did you?" I asked looking as innocent and afraid as I could.

"What if I did?" he snapped, but I could see fear in his eyes.

"Well, you probably aren't a wizard anymore if you did," I said sweetly, still trying to look innocent. "But you wouldn't just drink from a flask you found on the ground, so we don't need to worry about that happening to you."

"Of course I wouldn't," he barked out on a laugh. "It did spill out on the ground when you dropped it though, so you won't likely get good price for it from Bourgin."

"Oh shoot, I suppose I'll wait to see him until I can fix that then," I said with a soft smile, taking my flask back. "Have a nice day sir."

I hurried away, knowing that he was watching me. As soon as I had cleared the alley I cast a quick disillusionment charm on myself and turned back to watch as the wizard I had just tricked into dosing himself attempted to use magic. His frustration grew more pronounced as spell after spell refused to work for him. I noticed that he didn't seem to be showing any signs of sickness, so I deemed the potion a success and made a mental note to use the last brew as my final product before removing the charm on myself and heading off to the gym once more.

* * *

I felt a pang of something I couldn't quite describe when Christmas morning came around and I saw that Professor Snape had sent me a gift. This was the first year I hadn't sent one to him. I spent an inordinate amount of time staring at the bottle of perfume, trying to decide what he really meant by it. He had sent a note with the bottle, but all it said was _' Runespoor is beneath you.'_ –_S_

The card told me nothing, but then again neither did the perfume bottle. It was a glass bottle with curved shape that somehow reminded me of a woman without being overtly feminine. The perfume gave the bottle a yellow hue, and there was a molded white topper that somehow could have been a bird or a flower. It was called L'Air Du Temps, and of course I didn't speak a bit of French so I had no idea what the name meant. It smelled very nice, a blend of gardenia and jasmine with a gentle undertone of sandal wood and iris. It seemed like a perfect scent for me, but I had no idea what it mean that he had gotten in for me.

I felt guilty for not having gotten him something, but my hatred for what he had become was strong enough to keep me from going out and trying to find him a gift right away. Instead I sat down with a bit of parchment and began making a home-made Christmas card. I sketched a somewhat pathetic Christmas tree on the front, and on the inside I wrote that I hoped the holiday had treated him very well. I signed it without a thank you for the perfume so he might assume that I had sent it before receiving my gift, and then I abandoned my hotel room to make use of one of the owls in Diagon Alley before making my way to the gym with hope that someone would be up for a fight on Christmas.

* * *

I had gained a bit more muscle mass by the time I returned to the castle, though I had an unfortunate black eye that I had been unable to treat without the proper supplies on hand whilst living in a muggle hotel. I had hoped to sneak down to the dungeons without detection and pilfer a bit of bruise paste from the potion store room before encountering anyone. Par for the course however, Professor Snape had other plans, and I ran into him within seconds of entering the castle.

"What has happened to your face Miss Riddle?" he asked immediately, and I almost believed that he was concerned for my well-being.

"I fell on an icy sidewalk, and I did not have any bruise paste on me," I lied swiftly. "Not to worry though, it doesn't even hurt."

I moved to hurry past him, but he caught me easily by the chin, and again I had to fight the instinctual flare to knock him away from me. I was not successful in resisting the urge to pull away from him, but he seemed to think it was just a flinch and did not question it.

"You have four very distinct markings in this bruise," he said quietly, his eyes burning as he met my gaze. "You have been punched."

"I suppose I have been," I said loftily, trying to put on the air of a reticent Slytherin holding onto their pride rather than a girl who was dangerously close to having an important secret revealed. "Like I said, it does not hurt."

"Who has hit you?" he asked firmly, his grip tightening and then releasing on my chin.

"A muggle attempted to mug me whilst I was out shopping," I lied, certain that his hatred for muggles would distract him from looking at my story to closely. "He looks worse than I do, I assure you. I should be going."

And before he could say anything I swept away and made my escape to the dungeon. Honestly what did he care if I had a bruise on my eye? I needed to be more careful if he was going to be so observant. Soon I would start implementing my plan, and I couldn't have him looking in my direction when he became suspicious of what was happening.


	9. Chapter 9

_**Song for this chapter: Globus- Europa (Instrumental Version)**_

* * *

It didn't occur to me until the middle of January that I had been too lax, that I had been allowing the darkness to creep forward unchecked when I had been training to stop it. That was thrown rather dramatically in my face by the daily prophet when I read that there had been a mass breakout from Azkaban. Now there were even more death eaters on the loose, and there was a part of me that felt certain it was my fault. Perhaps if I had acted sooner, they would not have had enough man power to pull something like that off. It was too late to know now, but I was stop them from doing something worse if it was the last thing I did.

I left the castle that very night, both because something needed to be done, and because I saw that Professor Snape was leaving, and he was least likely to notice my absence when he was not present himself. I knew from my research of death eaters that Lucius Malfoy had previously been accused of involvement, but had managed to skate by without getting into trouble. I decided to start my search for other death eaters at his house. I would have liked to have started with him, but a powerful wizard, working closely with the ministry, suddenly losing his ability to do magic would be a bit too obvious.

I would have to start smaller, though frankly my best bet would be to strike against the escapees from prison first, as it would be easy for someone to believe the stress of living in the constant presence of dementors had stolen their magic from them. I would only get one of them if luck was on my side though. I had a clipping from the paper with each of their pictures on it stowed away in my pocket, and on the first sight of them I planned to attack. I only had three vials of potion on me tonight, but I would be proud if I managed to use all three on my first night out.

I had thought for a long time about how I should approach these nights, and when it came down to it I wanted to get as close as I could to the attire I had worn while training in the gym during the summer, but I also wanted to be able to blend in a bit with this group of men wearing black robes. In the end I had to go shopping to find what I would need. I purchased a pair of black running shoes, form fitting but flexible black pants, and a black tank top. When I realized that I could better conceal my potions and have easy access to them if they were stowed up the sleeve that I no longer had when opting not to wear gloves I had purchased gauntlet gloves that left my hands free to work, but covered the skin up to my elbow and created a handy storage space for me. And of course because I was not wearing robes, my face was easily exposed to I found a black scarf to obscure the bottom of my face, but left my vision clear.

When I first saw myself in the mirror with my hair pulled back in an unforgiving pony tail, I couldn't help but laugh at my appearance. It was only thoughts of why such an outfit was even needed that sobered me up. I stowed my wand in a holster on my thigh should I somehow end up in a situation where it was my only defense, and then I made my way out into the night with Malfoy Manor in my mind as my intended location.

* * *

I didn't realize just how much luck was on my side this evening, until I arrived just outside the gate of Malfoy Manor. It was clear that there was some sort of meeting, or possibly a celebration taking place inside, and there were death eaters everywhere. That would have perhaps been intimidating, or problematic, but the majority of them seemed to be inside already.

There were only three lingering on the grounds, each seemingly unwilling to part with the open space and the fresh air. I knew without seeing their haggard faces that these three were escapees. One of them was standing near the gate, with his back to me, smoking something that didn't exactly smell like tobacco. He was distracted; staring up at the moon like it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

His distraction was my opening. I leapt, moving as quietly as I could, grabbing onto the top of the fence and pulling myself up until I could catch my foot on the top to hoist myself over. I had one moment of fear as I was coming over the top where it occurred to me that he might see me coming, but I threw myself from the top of the fence before it could settle in my chest. I dropped with my elbow out, landing on his back and bringing the force of my weight down on the apex of his neck and shoulder.

He released an off of pain, but I quickly fastened my hand over his mouth as I slid down his back, kicking on of his knees out from under him, and bringing him into a kneeling position beneath me. I didn't have much time to work without the other men in the yard noticing me, so I released his mouth as I grasped his hair tightly and pulled his head back against my shoulder so his throat was fully extended.

His lips moved like he was about to say something, but I moved swiftly, pulling a vial from within my glove, unstoppering it, and dumping it in his mouth before closing my hand over his mouth so he could not spit it out. He was fighting me, attempting to buck me off of him and staunchly refusing to swallow. I pinched his nostrils closed until I felt him swallow out of reflex. As soon as I knew he had swallowed the potion, I threw him onto the grass, and quickly cast a wandless stunner on him before slinking into the hedges that lined the fences.

I took a moment to regain my bearings, glancing through the branches to see that he had scraggly black hair, and a matching beard. His eyes were closed, but I knew that they would match the crazed blue ones of the man from the paper. One death eater was out of the game, and the other two seemed oblivious to what had happened. There was one standing near the porch, pulling at the last of his cigarette. He was large, which was intimidating, but his proximity to the house is what really put me in danger. I would go for him last, and have to be happy with only two targets taken out if he decided to go inside before I was ready.

The other man was a little closer, sitting on a stone bench near roses that I was certain had been tended by a house elf. He held a pendant in his hands and he was rubbing his thumb over it repetitively as if he were soothing himself. It was a sad enough picture to pull me up short, but his silver mask on the bench beside him reminded me of why I was here.

I slipped out of the bushes so they would not make a sound as I crept toward him. I was taking a risk, exposing myself in the open yard, but I moved forward anyway. I crept up behind him, opting to go for speed rather than impact, and I quickly pulled his shoulder length hair back, wrapping it around my hand and forcing his head back.

"Bella?" he questioned in surprise before his eyes landed on me and I saw them light up with fear and then anger.

I smashed my fist down on his nose, my stomach turning at the sound of it breaking, but when he opened him mouth to cry out in pain I deftly poured my second vial into his mouth, smiling to myself as I saw enough of it trickle down his throat mixed with his blood to have effect. I drug my other hand over his forehead, efficiently stunning him before he could groan and draw attention to us.

I crept around to the other side of the bench, using the bulk of his body as a shield as I peered over at the house, and saw that luck was with me again number three hadn't gone inside. I spared the man in front of me a long enough glace to note that he wasn't one of the Lestranges, before forcing thoughts of why he would have expected Bellatrix to be meeting him in the yard and threw myself into a full out sprint across the yard.

The bigger man was stubbing out his cigarette on the step, and I felt it in my gut when he saw me coming. His head snapped up, and his wand was in his hand instantly. He was a proud enough man that he did not call for help, and that was an opening I intended to take advantage of. He threw a silent stunner in my direction, and I dropped to the ground instantly, using my forward momentum to roll across the last bit of distance that separated us.

I ended up at his feet, and I could feel the smile on his face better than I could see it. That gave me more pleasure when I swung my arm back, hitting him in the ankles and upsetting his balance. He stumbled back, thankfully moving out of the light cast onto the lawn by the front door, and I sprung to my feet following in his wake. He swung at me, and I ducked the blow from his right hand, before his left crashed into my side. There was a sickening crack, and the accompanying pain told me that at least one of my ribs had just broken. I'd risked too much already to back down because of a little pain, so I bit my lip against the burning agony that ripped through me as I moved, and I used a dirty move.

I threw my leg forward landing a concentrated and powerful move in the spot that would hurt him most. He buckled, but managed to keep his feet as he leaned forward, wrapping his hand roughly around my pony tail and jerking me forward so I was kneeling at his feet, will absolutely no leverage. My mind raced for a way out as he began pulling my head back, exposing my throat to him, and straining the muscles in my neck. The answer came to me in a flash, and I continued to fight his pull, forcing his to exert himself further as I lined my feet up with his shins.

Just before making contact, and stopped fighting him, and instead threw my head back. As his upper body thrust forward over compensating in his effort to move me, I pressed my feet firmly into his shins and kicked back and up, completely destroying his balance. I realized that he was going to fall on to me, so I pulled my knees up to my chest, trying not to cry at how badly that hurt my ribs, and I prepared for impact.

He was the worse for the wearing, landing on the sharp points of my knees, but I bit clean through my lip in an effort to hold in my scream when his weight crashed in to me. At least one more rib had given way, but I couldn't afford to pay it any attention. I used his moment of injury to roll us, and when he opened his mouth to suck in air, I dosed him with the potion that would turn him into a muggle as well. I noted his face, so I could check it against my pictures, and then I rolled off of him, using that motion to apparate out of the Malfoy grounds.

I knew the crack of my disappearance would have summoned someone from inside the meeting, and the would discover my work in the yard but I couldn't find it in me to care how they would react at the moment. Instead all I could think about was the risk of one of my broken ribs puncturing me lung, and the sinking realization that I had never actually learned how to heal broken bones.

I drug myself up from the dirt and pulled the scarf from around my face. I drew my wand from my hip, and brought it immediately to my mouth casting the healing incantation that I did know, and forcing the skin of my lip to knit itself back together. I wracked my brain for the incantation and wand movements to heal bones, and somewhere in a distance memory I thought I heard Madam Pomfrey saying Episkey when fixing a fellow students arm. I directed my wand at my rib cage, and said the spell aloud.

There were three quick snaps, and I knew I had gotten it right, but I couldn't hold in the grunt of pain that accompanied the sensation of my bones snapping into their rightful place. I swayed on my feet as the sheer magnitude of the pain threatened to knock me out, but I managed to hold myself together, but only just barely. I returned my wand to its holster, and began the trek back to the castle, praying that I wouldn't cry each time my foot collided with the ground and sent pain rippling through me. Yes my ribs were definitely still bruised and not entirely healed. I needed a bed quickly.

* * *

I felt like immobile stone the next morning, crying out in pain when I tried to pull myself out of bed. I crawled to my bathroom, feeling absolutely pathetic as I drew a hot bath. I was beyond grateful that the first year potion lesson wasn't until two in the afternoon and I would be expected to make an appearance amongst the living until then. I stripped out of the undergarments I had slept in after peeling my clothes off last night, and slid into the scalding hot water. When I had relaxed a bit due to the heat, I took an inventory of my body and saw that most of my torso was black and blue. It felt as if I had pulled a muscle in my neck, though to be fair that was the fault of the large death eater I still wasn't sure of the name of rather than mine. Other than a minor pain in my elbow from how I landed on the first man, nothing else seemed to be wrong with me. I was relatively unharmed, and three death eaters were now muggles, all in all I had to call last night a success.

Now I just had to get through today without Professor Snape noticing that anything was off about me. I wanted to at least make it to lunch so I could try to get a reading on how he was feeling. Surely he had been there last night? He must know what had happened to those men. Did he suspect me? The only way to find out was to be near him, as much as the thought upset me.

I stayed in the bath until the water had gone cold, but then I had to unwillingly drag myself back out of the tub. The pain was marginally better, but I was going to need to procure some bruise paste post haste. I dressed delicately, opting to wear a tank top with a well-placed cooling charm on it under my blouse to ease a bit of the pain of the bruising until I could do more. I left my hair down, and slightly frizzed in an effort to look as innocent as possible, and then I began a slow trek up to the great hall for lunch.

I knew from the moment I sat down in my seat beside Professor Snape that things must have gone very badly at last night's celebration after my activities. I was close enough to smell him, and though he still smelled like herbs per usual there was a hint of copper about him. He had bled last night as well, and apparently hadn't had time to shower properly yet. A tiny piece of me felt badly for him, but the majority of my soul rejoiced that he was being punished for his wicked ways.

"Good afternoon professor," I said quietly as I took my seat, holding my breath when the pain in my chest peaked.

"I will not be in attendance at the lesson this afternoon, I have other business to attend to," he snapped, clearly not interested in any polite conversation. "Try not to blow anything up."

"That ought to be difficult," I laughed harshly, immediately regretting it, but stifling a wince so as not to give away the fact that I was injured.

* * *

It became clear pretty quickly that there was not going to be any sort of news about the three wizards who were no longer wizards. It was being kept very hush hush, so I was unable to decipher if there were any suspicions being cast in my direction. My only compass for discerning the risk was how Professor Snape acted around me, and while he seemed even more short tempered, that seemed to have more to do with lessons he was being forced to give Harry Potter than with me.

I decided that it was time for me to strike again, and this time I wanted to hit a little closer to home. The three death eaters I had taken down before were so unimportant, at least according to the history books, that I had already forgotten their names. I wanted a name of a high caliber this time, and I set my sights on Rabastan Lestrange. I would have liked to go after Bellatrix Lestrange, after guessing just how depraved she must be that someone that was not her husband would assume someone pulling them into a painful yet intimate hold was her, but I could sense that she would be one of the hardest to reach. It didn't help that I hadn't ever really fought a woman before.

And so I started to plot and scheme, only to realize that with the whole group of death eaters mostly attempting to fly under the radar at the moment, there was only one place I could look for them. It was incredibly risky to return to the scene of my crime, but short of outright stalking Professor Snape I didn't have a lot of options. After much internal debate, I decided that I would wait outside the gates of the Malfoy Manor and attempt to apprehend Rabastan after he left the premises.

So I waited, spending far more time in the lab than was strictly necessary, doing my best to keep tabs on Professor Snape, so I would know when he was leaving again. If he left the castle, that greatly increased the chances that there was a dark meeting taking place, and then I could make my move.

It took until halfway through March for me to actually catch him leaving.

As soon as he reached the gates of the school, I ran flat out back to my chambers to quickly change and hide away a couple vials of my potion. My goal tonight was Rabastan, but if I could take down someone else, I certainly wouldn't hesitate to do so. When I was once again shrouded in black I slipped out of the castle and hurried off to engage in misdeeds.

This time when I arrived outside of the gate, there was no one in the yard. They seemed to have learned from my last visit that perhaps lingering on the grounds was not a good idea. I smirked at their demonstration of fear, and then I nestled myself amongst the hedges and settled in to wait.

I hadn't been prepared for just how long I was going to have to wait. Whatever they were doing in there took up most of the night, and the very first bits of light were starting to lighten the sky when groups of men in black robes began to leave the house. Luck was on my side in the fact that they had chosen not to keep their masks on. I waited patiently as the filed out, and breathed a nearly silent sigh of relief when I saw that Rabastan was bringing up the rear with his brother Rodolphus.

I held my ground, waiting until they cleared the gates, and then I placed my hand casually over my wand where it was holstered against my thigh. Though I had never actually cast an unforgiveable before, my theory was solid, and I did not allow my confidence to waver as I cast the imperious curse. I exerted my will over Rabastan, and felt the smile creep on to my face when I saw him turn to his brother and start speaking.

"I've forgotten something, I need to go back," he said in a quiet convincing voice. "I'll catch up to you."

"Tell Bella to hurry along, I don't know what is taking her so long," Rodolphus answered, clearly not at all worried about letting his brother wander off on his own.

Rabastan began walking back toward me, and that was when my conscience got the better of me. I didn't have I in me to keep him under the imperious as I stole his magic from him, so I let him get within a few feet of me and I released the spell. There was a moment where he was blinking in confusion, trying to clear his head of the fog, but I made my move before his mind was entirely cleared. I swept his legs out from under him sending him sprawling onto his back.

He was at my mercy, and he was hidden from view of the house. I would be revealed if any of the people leaving turned to look back, so I would have to work quickly and silently. While he was still dazed, I clambered on top of him, pressing all of my weight into his throat with my right arm effectively silencing him, while I struggled to hold his body with my hips while he tried to buck me off. It would have been easier if I could just stun him, but I needed him awake and able to swallow.

I grunted softly when he managed to land a blow the easily broke my nose. I was bleeding on him, and my eyes were watering thickly enough to nearly blind me, but I carried on. I pulled a vial from inside of my glove and unstoppered it from with my teeth, tipping it into his mouth, and fighting back a gag when I saw my blood mixing with it on the way down. As soon as I saw him swallow I stunned him, and then immediately apparated away before anyone could discover me.

I disappeared from the manor, and reappeared on the outskirts of London, in a park that I knew had a public restroom. I couldn't risk going straight back to the castle, and possibly running into Professor Snape; especially when I was still bleeding profusely from my broken nose. I hustled into the loo on the edge of the park, sealing the door behind me so that no one could surprise me while I was working.

I had learned from last time. I took the time to learn the proper incantation and wand movement for healing broken bones, and I remember to procure the bruise paste that I needed before I actually needed it. I moved my wand intricately in front of my face as I cast the spell. There was a jarring snap followed by several less dramatic movements as the broken pieces knit themselves back together inside of my nose. My nose stopped bleeding immediately, but my face still looked rather swollen.

I cleaned up the wet and dried blood from my face, and dug the tube of bruise paste out of where I had hidden it away in my hair, and applied a generous coat around my nose, and under my eyes where it was most likely to bruise. It was enough to get me back into the castle, but I was going to need to ice my face tonight if I hoped to look entirely normal by morning.

* * *

"Have you been working on the combative potion that you said might suppress a person's magic for a limited amount of time," Professor Snape asked unexpectedly while we worked together in the lab, sending my heart into a sprint though I managed to keep my face impassive.

"No I abandoned that branch of potion making when I discovered who my relative is," I said dismissively, focusing my attention on the pepper up potion I was brewing so as not to seem too bothered by his question.

"Pardon me if I question that answer, as you appear to smell of billingsroot," he said as he swept forward into my personal space without preamble.

"I'm sorry?" I said, taking a tiny step back and gathering my wits as quickly as I could. "I believe you are smelling ginger rather than billingsroot. Did you not imbibe in the ginger cake at lunch as well? It was delightful."

"I do not enjoy ginger cake," he said thoughtfully, though his eyes seemed to say that he believed what I said about the scent. "I suppose that is ginger however. I am in need of billingsroot, do you have any in your personal stores?"

"I'm sorry Professor Snape, I don't," I lied smoothly. "Would you like me to start growing you some?"

"That would take several months to mature," he snapped at me, and I knew he was distracted from the initial point of this inquiry.

I just shrugged at him, trying not to enjoy his frustration too much, and I went back to work on my potion. My heart was still pounding in my chest, but thankfully I hadn't broken into a sweat or started breathing heavily enough to give myself away. The way his fellows were dropping had turned his attention to me, but he seemed to have been convinced that I wasn't involved. I needed to be much more careful now however. I could not afford for him to actually find me out.

* * *

Things were growing hectic as the year went on, and the only thing I was grateful for was that the insanity of Umbrige replacing Professor Dumbledore, and something dramatic that seemed to have happened between Harry Potter and Professor Snape, was that the potion's master seemed far too distracted to pay attention to me. Whatever suspicions he had of my involvement with the death eaters that had lost their powers, they seemed to have slipped his mind in light of the new developments.

It allowed me enough space to start planning a better method of attack. I couldn't keep going back to the Malfoy Manor or I was going to end up getting myself killed. I was certain they had increased security beyond anything I would be prepared for, and I had certainly given up the element of surprise. So while Professor Snape was distracted with the school dramatics, I began to look into the daily habits of known death eaters that had somehow managed to keep themselves out of Azkaban.

Most of them seemed to be firmly entrenched in their lives, and didn't venture out to do things that put them within my reach. Of course I wasn't feeling like attempting an attack in the middle of the ministry or out in the daylight while one of them might be shopping in Diagon Alley, so my options were limited. There was only one person with traceable ties to the death eaters, though he didn't seem to have actually taken the mark, that took to areas I would have a chance of launching a successful attack.

On the first day of the Easter break, I dressed down so I would look less like a young woman and more like a hag, and made my way to the Hogs Head to ask around about Fenrir Greyback. I learned a lot of about what he was doing now, and what he had been doing in the past. There was no question as to whether he was a dark wizard. I didn't really even have much question as to his association with He Who Must Not Be Name, as Greyback associated with more than one known death eater.

My only real question, was whether I was willing to take the risk. He was physically intimidating with just his size, but more than that he was a werewolf, and there was a real risk if he got the drop on me. Somehow the risk of him killing me, didn't get my heart pounding nearly as much as the risk of him biting me. The lunar cycle being far from a full moon did little to ease my fears.

In the end, the risk of leaving him at large seemed worse, so I began plotting. He frequented a dive bar just off of Knockturn Alley, and was known for leaving quite late in the evening, so I made plans to be there when he left to go to wherever it was he lived. I was dressed in my black clothes that let me hide in the darkness, but I was venturing into a public area, so I took the added precaution of hiding beneath a disillusionment charm. It wouldn't help once I got moving, but knowing I was there, and spotting who I am certainly aren't the same thing.

I found myself waiting outside the bar for far longer than I had been crouched in the bushes on my last hunting expedition. Apparently Greyback enjoyed his time at the bar, staying well past two in the morning, when I had assumed the bar would be closed by. My annoyance at waiting grew the longer I waited, but so did my hope that he would be far too drunk to put up much of a fight.

He came stumbling out, thankfully alone, a little after four in the morning, and I was anxious to make my move. I barely waited for him to clear the doorway before I swept out of the shadows and launched an attack. I went for the back of his knees first, hoping to use his drunken swagger to my advantage. He keeled forward, one knee crashing to the ground, but I realized as he held himself up from falling on the ground that he wasn't nearly as drunk has he had seemed to be.

He was also faster than I expected, and he swung back smashing a fist into my hip and propelling me backward. I winced as my body crashed painfully into the brick building, but I dodged to side as he lunged at me causing him to crash headfirst into the same wall. He growled in anger, and lunged for me again, his fingernails tearing at my flesh as I tore myself from his grasp. I kicked at him to keep him off me, and I felt the first real panic begin to build in my chest. He was stronger than me, and faster than me, and I might just have bitten off more than I could chew.

He lunged again, and I flattened myself onto the ground allowing him to bowl over me without dealing much damage. I grabbed his ankle and pulled back as he tried to to move forward. I used his bodyweight to bring him crashing down to the floor.

"Bitch," he hissed as I attempted to pin him from behind.

He flipped onto his back, crushing me with his massive weight. I attempted to get him into a head lock and subdue him much like I had Bristow such a long time ago, but he snapped at me, and I barely managed to get my arm out of the way before he tore flesh from bone. I wasn't sure if he had broken the skin, but his teeth had definitely made contact.

I fell back on self-defense tactics my father had taught me when he first noticed that I was a girl, and I brutally gouged both of his eyes. He howled in pain, and flipped us quickly, sending me sprawling across the ground, and leaving himself crouching in an animalistic stance with an evil grin on his face. I realized in the half second before he lunged again that I had no chance of beating him, and my only shot was to try and land a quick blow and immediately run for it if I wanted to live.

I pulled the only vial in my glove and threw myself into a prone position lying on he ground as he lunged at me. He landed on top of me, and I swiftly smashed my palm up into his throat, breaking the vial between us. I felt it tear my skin open, but his tore as well, and I smashed as much of the potion into the wound as I could before I rolled within the cage of his arms and apparated away.

I appeared for a moment in the park I had previously visited, just to be sure he hadn't followed me in my apparition, and then I departed immediately for the gates of Hogwarts. I sunk to the ground, on the verge of a faint, and let the adrenaline run its course. I was shaking from the force of it flowing through me as I drew my wand and began to wash my hand thoroughly. There didn't seem to be any glass in the wound, and I cleaned it several times until I was sure that I had gotten all of the blood off of me, but I wasn't sure if it would be enough. Not only could I not be certain if my potion would have the proper affect the way I had administered it, I may have inadvertently just made myself a werewolf by allowing his blood to come into contact with mine.

I felt tears starting to burn my eyes as I tried to calculate when the next full moon was. I should find out in less than a week if I had effectively ended my life as I knew it. I tried to calm myself by noting that his teeth at least hadn't broken the skin on my arm, but my mind seemed to be filled with images of his blood dripping onto my hand instead. I was terrified, and I felt as if I had failed entirely this evening.

* * *

I was thankful that we were on Easter break, or the impending mental break down as I awaited to answer to whether or not I was a werewolf, would have been far too easy for Professor Snape to spot it. Instead I was able to stay hidden away in my room as I slowly unraveled. I grew a bit sicker each day, and I couldn't be certain if I was ill because of how worked up I was, or if I was ill because my first change into a werewolf was approaching me.

A part of me wished I could simply take the wolfsbane potion each night and make it easier on myself, but it would poison me if I were not actually infected with the werewolf mutation. So instead I spent my time alternating between hiding in my bed crying, pacing nervously back and forth, and storing away all of my possessions in the hope that I would not destroy them if I were to transform.

* * *

It was six days of hell, but eventually on the night of the full moon, I fell asleep. There was no fur, no painful transformation, no waking nightmare. There were plenty actually nightmares, but when I awoke the next morning I bathed my pillow in tears of joy that I had maintained my humanity. I was so relieved I felt like all of the bones had melted within my body, which made it incredibly difficult to pull myself out of bed and make my way to the potions classroom for the first second year lesson of the summer term, but somehow I managed it.

* * *

Professor Snape floated in and out of the lab while I worked on a regular basis, but his appearance shortly after my encounter with Greyback was striking. He had a black eye and a busted lip, and I thought he might actually be limping, as he searched through all of the cabinets for something.

"Where is the bloody bruise past I brewed last month," he snapped at me, turning his abused face toward me.

"I don't know sir," I lied, my shock at his appearance likely hiding my guilt. "What has happened to you?"

There was a moment's hesitation. It wasn't long enough to be suspicious, but it was long enough to immediately turn my mind to his dark alter ego.

"I somehow found myself in a bar room brawl," he said with a smirk that would have previously set my blood on fire, instead it stopped my heart in my chest.

He might not know who was doing this, but had figured out how he was going to be best able to defend himself. He had begun fighting, and he might not have the head start that I had, but somehow I knew that if I were to end up in a fight against him, I would lose.

"Well perhaps this merits a bit of a dry spell," I said, hoping it sounded like a joke, rather than panicked babbling. "In any case, I think I remember now that you sent the bruise paste up to the hospital wing. Why don't I go fetch it for you?"

"Thank you Miss Riddle," he said, and his voice was just soft enough, that again I remembered that I used to like him.

I scampered out of the room to fetch the bruise paste that was actually in my possession already, before he could confuse and frighten me further.

* * *

I threw myself into working within my apprenticeship, and it wasn't until the end of the year exams were upon us that I realized I was doing it out of fear. There had been time to take more risks, but I hadn't taken them. The death eaters had likely grown complacent in the months that I avoided any moves against them, and there was no one to blame but myself. I was terribly afraid. I was a coward.

Each time I thought of striking again, the picture of that last moment in the fight against Greyback where he could have ended me flashed before my eyes, and all thought of continuing was driven from my mind. Instead I had focused all of my attention on the students of Hogwarts, which was perhaps why I was well aware of what the golden trio had been up to at the ministry of magic.

I was embarrassed to admit that it was the blind faith of those students who followed Harry Potter into his suicide mission that renewed my faith in my own abilities. Yes, there had been a close call, but I was still alive and well, and I still had a duty to put an end to this madness.

And so I watched the students leave the school, and I watched the Professors begin to leave as well, but my attention was focused on Professor Snape. I was going to take my worst risk, and follow him. It was too close to home to actually strike against him, but I was going to let him lead me to where the action was taking place.

I had already petitioned with Professor Dumbeldore to remain in the castle for independent study, and been approved, so I didn't need to go through the motions for appearing to have left for the summer. I was expected to be working in the lab, so I didn't have to hide away and be secretive about the fact that I was keeping myself in close proximity to the potion master's chambers. The only real challenged with the plan I had concocted was finding a way to actually follow him out of the castle without getting myself killed.

There were apparently no death eater gatherings right at the end of the year, and I was afraid that he was simply going to retire to his home for the summer, and I would be forced to come up with a new way to sneak within their ranks again.

Luck was with me three days, or I suppose nights, into the summer break when Professor Snape left his chambers as darkness was falling on the grounds, wearing heavier robes than he normally would. I suspected that he had his mask hidden somewhere on his person, and I took the risk of following him out of the castle.

I was taking precautions. There was a strong disillusionment hiding me from view, and a heavy silencing charm erasing any sound of my movement. Knowing his sensitivity to external forces I was taking the added precaution of not watching him as I followed after him. The occasional glance as we proceeded across the grounds seemed brief enough to keep him from noticing that I was on his tail.

I put so much work into not alerting him to my presence that I acted a complete idiot. The only way for me to follow him as he apparated away was to make physical contact, and to do that would surely reveal my position. It had been a stupid oversight, but what was stupider was to decide to take the risk anyway.

As he turned on his heel to disappear I lunged out and firmly grasped the hem of his flaring robes. I managed to pull myself along with him, but I felt him try to jerk away, and I knew without a shadow of doubt that he knew that I was there. I had likely blown my cover, because frankly who else would have been lurking at Hogwarts?

I was committed now, I couldn't back out. As soon as we arrived at the gates of Malfoy Manor I staggered away from him, praying he wouldn't see a shimmer that betrayed my position. I managed to put a good ten feet of distance between us, before Professor Snape proved yet again that he was far smarter than me. _Secrets, secrets, what's the cost_ my father's voice whispered in the back of my mind.

"Finite incantatem," he called as he brandished his wand in the direction he knew I had to have gone when we arrived. _Secrets, secrets, all is lost._

I was visible, and he could clearly hear the gasp I tried to stifle at being revealed. I still had a modicum of mystery, as I was hidden by my black garb, but he had spent nearly every day of his life with me for years now. Surely he would recognize my figure.

He began to advance on me, and my fear of facing a fight with him was quickly being realized. What was more than that, several other death eaters, who I could not name as their masks were in place, had noticed the situation he was in, and they were moving in. I was completely and utterly screwed, and the only direction I could run to get away from the group of them was toward the mansion which was sure to mean more trouble for me.

I turned on the spot, attempting to apparate away, and with a sickening turn of my stomach I realized that I couldn't budge. Hadn't Professor Snape just apparated in? How was that possible if there were anti apparition wards in place?

I nearly vomited when it occurred to me that they might actually have a different form of travel amongst there group, and I was now trapped. My blood no longer seemed to be pumping through my veins as I turned back to face the group that was closing in on me, and I prepared to do something I had told myself I would never do.

This would be a fight to the death, and frankly I had no chance of winning.

I dodged to the left as a green flash shot towards me, and suddenly my blood was pumping full force once more. I left my wand holstered to my thigh, and used the advantage of having both hands free to throw two stunners in two different directions. I let out the tiniest breath of relief when two of the six men bearing down on me fell.

I immediately had to roll to the left to dodge another spell that I suspected had been the cruciatus. I threw myself out of the roll moving swiftly from a crouch up to my feet, throwing a blind stunner in front of me as I began to run away from the Malfoy Manor. That meant running directly at the crowd of men, but it seemed to be the last thing they expected, and it gave me a moment's advantage.

One body dove to the side, and I suspected it was Professor Snape, but I ignored him threw another set of stunners with my arms extended to the sides, directing them at the bodies I was attempting to pass. They fell much like the three I had already hit had, and it left me with just one attack left. I threw my body forward, falling into an all-out run while attempting to keep a shield erected behind me to ward off an attack.

I could feel it as I was approaching the end of the magic that kept me locked firmly to the ground, and for one brilliant moment I thought I was free, but then a body fell from the sky onto me, and I collapsed to the ground with the weight of it. I attempted to pull myself free from his grasp, but he had me firmly by the hips and I could not free myself.

He flipped me over roughly, and I attempted to force him off of me. He had me firmly pinned to the ground, and the only real leverage I had left was in my arms. I swung for his face, but he dodged me before landing a blow to the side of my head that sent pain burning through me like a wildfire. My head was knocked to the side with the force of it, but my the real fear spiked in my chest when I felt his fingers wrap around the top of the scarf that blocked my face from view. He jerked it down and his gasp filled my ears.

"Addi?" he said, utterly shocked to see me in this situation.

Had he really not realized it was me?

"Oh no," he groaned as we heard other's approaching, and he threw his body forward so most of it was covering me while pulling the scarf back over my face to hide my identity. "Scream."

It was a whispered demand in my ear, and it made no sense to me. His body began to move over me and I did not understand it.

"Scream damn it," he hissed in my ear. "Make them believe I am hurting you."

I understood then. I began to scream, and fight, and put on quite the show while he moved over me. I was afraid of dying, and I was sickened by the fact that he was portraying a rape to entertain his cronies. More than that though, I was shocked that he was protecting me. He knew that I was the one attacking his comrades, and instead of punishing me and turning me over to his leader, he was keeping the others away from me.

"She's mine," he hissed over his shoulder. "It's my bloody apprentice, and I deserve my pound of flesh. I will dispose of her when I am done."

His words made me sick. I could feel tears burning tracks down my face, and I could hardly see our surroundings anymore. I saw enough to know that his fellow death eaters had backed off. He continued to move for a few moments more, and then he became very still over me.

"You must return to the castle immediately, hide in your chambers until I come for you, do not allow anyone near you unless the know to call you Addi," he whispered in my ear before he pulled away from me and pulled me up from the ground as gently as he could.

"And now, your escape will have to be believable," he said softly as he removed his mask, revealing himself as a death eater.

I had already known it as truth, but seeing it was something else. Seeing him remove the mask, and suspecting that he may not truly be a death eater after all was extremely confusing, but then again this entire night was suddenly beyond my grasp.

"If you could draw blood without breaking any bones I would appreciate it," he said just as quietly, before dropping his arms to the side impassively.

I just stared at him for a moment, trying to understand. Did he really mean for me to attack him? Was he really choosing not to defend himself, so that I might survive my colossal mistake?

"Now Addi," he demanded harshly, and I snapped to attention.

Yes, that was really what he was asking of me. My mind latched onto the image of him keeping me absolutely safe, while pretending to defile me and in that I found the strength to do what he asked of me. I lunged forward and landed two quick blows to his face. One split his lip and the other drew blood from his nose, but I was confident that there would be no lasting damage. I kicked his legs out from under him, leaving him sprawling on the ground, and mentally praying that he could act out any other injuries he thought he might need to be sporting when his friends came to investigate.

I spared him one last glace, his image blurred with my tears, and then I ran.

* * *

If you would like some intense music to listen to while reading this chapter, that doesn't really fit into the slot of 'song for this chapter' but works well with it, I suggest this youtube video:

watch?feature=endscreen&NR=1&v=CAsRnFa4NlY

just take out the spaces and the link should work.


	10. Chapter 10

_**Song for this chapter: Battlefield by Jordan Sparks and Skinny Love by Birdy**_

* * *

When I was sitting in the dark of my room, and the adrenaline had left me I began to realize how terribly close I had come to dying tonight and I grew very cold. My body trembled from the cold, and I was vaguely aware that I had started crying again, though my tears were silent this time. I wrapped myself tightly in the blankets from my bed, attempting to fight the effects of what I suspected to be shock, and I waited for him.

It took hours, but eventually there was a knock at my door. I remained quiet, his fervent instruction that I not let anyone else into my room repeating in my mind as I waited for him to reveal himself to me. There was another knock but still I said nothing.

"Addi," called a hoarse voice through the door. "It's Severus, let me in please."

Something melted in me when he said his name. Did he wanted me to call him that? I had never dared to even think it, but suddenly I wanted to hear what it would sound like if I did say it. I pushed those thoughts from my mind, and went to let him into the room.

"Merlin," I gasped, immediately darting forward to slide under his arm and help him into the room. "What the hell happened? I didn't leave you like this!"

He was bleeding too much to tell how extensive his injuries actually were, but they were clearly worse than I had thought. Then there was the fact that he was swaying on his feet, seemingly unable to hold his own body up. He chuckled darkly, pulling me out of my assessment.

"I was punished for failing to kill you obviously," he said sardonically. "Ignore it, and hastily pack a bag of your things. Your room needs to look like you left in a hurry, so you may as well make it believable."

"Why?" I asked trying to meet his gaze, though it was awkward from my position at his side.

"Because you actually do have to run, they know who you are, and they are not opposed to the idea of breaking in to Hogwarts to kill you for what you've done," he sighed, sounding too tired to fight with me. "Just do as I say please."

"Okay," I agreed, even though I didn't feel particularly agreeable.

I helped him to gingerly settle his weight against the wall so I could slide out from underneath his arm. When I was confident that he wasn't going to collapse onto the floor I set to work. I pulled out my duffel bag and began haphazardly throwing my clothes and a few of my books into the bag. I wasn't sure if I was actually going on the run, so I didn't know if I should be worried about keep sakes, or possessions that were important to me, but impractical for running away. With a slight shrug I forced the tungsten cauldron, perfume, and book into the bag before zipping it shut.

"What do you want me to do now?" I asked him, turning to see where he was slumped against the wall with his eyes closed, most likely in pain.

"For tonight I will hide you in my chambers," he said tiredly. "We will make more permanent arrangements tomorrow with the help of the headmaster."

"Am I going to be in terrible trouble with him?" I asked quietly as I slid back under his arm and helped him out of my room.

"No, he's rather impressed with you at the moment, though he doesn't know it's you just yet," he grunted as he limped along beside me. "I will have to insist upon obviating the potion from your mind before you speak to him. I don't think you've realize the full extent of what you've created Addi, and it can't be given to anyone else."

"I won't tell anyone," I promised him, a weight settling in my stomach when I thought about what he was insinuating.

"Do you understand that it could be taken from your forcefully?" he asked me frankly as I stopped outside the door to his chambers. "It could be plucked from your mind, and it could be turned into a weapon that could destroy the wizarding world."

"I've created a weapon of mass destruction," I breathed out in a huff and I felt my body slumping against the weight of such a revelation.

It was only my need to keep him upright that kept me on my feet. I was hunched slightly as I angled him toward the door so he could lower his wards. He murmured in what I suspected was Latin, causing the door to swing open to allow us entrance.

"Yes you did," he agreed, but there was no malice in it. "But it's not too late to undue it. Well most of it, I don't think we can bring back the powers you've taken away."

"I'm not sure we should," I said darkly, thinking about what those men had done.

"I still can't believe you were crazy enough to attack a drunken werewolf," he said with a disbelieving shake of the head. "What am I supposed to do with you Addi? Why didn't you come to me?"

"Because you're a death eater," I said flatly, aware of my confusion over that status but not allowing it to show in my voice. "I would have gone for you if I'd thought I would survive it. Surely you know that?"

"Knowing it's you, I am surprised it took you this long to even follow me," he chuckled tiredly. "You are right, I bare the mark of the Dark Lord, but I have not been loyal to him since before the end of the last war. You would not be alive right now if I were."

I pushed the door closed with a kick of my foot, and lead him over to his couch. My mind was working far too hard to process his word for me to be able to take in his chambers. What was he trying to tell me? I lowered him as gently as I could stepping back so I could look at him while I asked.

"You are a spy?" I asked. "That's why you saved me? Why you are still helping me?"

"Yes, I've been spying for the Order of the Phoenix for more than a decade," he explained tiredly as his eyes drifted closed. "I turned sides at the end of the last war."

"Why?" I asked bluntly.

"I realized that my leader was not who I thought he was, and I could no longer support his ideals," he said stiffly, keeping his eyes closed.

"Why?" I pressed.

"He valued his ambition over someone I cared about," he said just as evasively.

"Professor Snape, I'd like the full answer please," I said impatiently, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Addi, I pretended to have forced sexual relations with you this evening. I bled for you on the floor of Malfoy Manor," he sighed. "Surely you can call me Severus by now."

"Severus," I said, fighting the reaction I felt with his name on my lips. "Will you tell me the truth?"

"Why do you want to know so badly?" he asked, petulance creeping into his voice.

"I need to know." I said honestly unclasping my arms. "I need to understand why you switched side. I am desperate to trust you again, I am literally begging you for a reason Severus. Tell my why."

"I changed sides for Lily Potter," he said in a pained voice, turning his face up so he was speaking to the ceiling rather than me. "I swore my allegiance to Dumbledore in an effort to keep her alive. I was willing to die for her, anything to keep the Dark Lord from killing her."

There was no air in the room when he stopped speaking. I was surprised to feel my legs give out beneath me, and suddenly I was sitting on the coffee table staring at his chin angled up at the ceiling still.

"You love her," I said quietly. "Yes, that is a believable answer. And it seems an honest one, thank you for that."

"I'd prefer not to talk about her again," he said in a resigned tired voice as he dropped his head down to meet my eyes. "I don't want to talk much at all right now to be frank, I am exhausted. But I need to removed that memory first."

"We can wait until morning," I offered gently. "You need healing and rest. It can wait."

"I can tend my own injuries, I am quite accomplished at healing these sorts of injuries," he sighed. "Go to bed, and we'll revisit this in the morning."

"Let me help you to bed then," I said, standing from my spot at the table and reaching for him.

"I'm sleeping here, there is no need," he said, subtly recoiling from my touch. "You may have my bed, it's through the door on the left."

"You're injured, I can sleep on the couch," I objected.

"Allow me the small dignity of playing the role of the gentleman," he said tersely.

"Yes sir," I said with a nod of my head as I fell into and old routine and simply obeyed his instructions.

I slunk out of the room, cradling my bag against my hip, and tried to ignore the horrible tearing pain in my chest. With the revelation that he was not evil, my pitiful love for him was back in full force, and at such an unfortunate time as well. What hope was there for me when he was in love with Lily Potter? I suppose it was easier somehow to know that I didn't have a shot. Easier, but still incredibly painful.

I tried to push those thoughts from my mind as I looked around his bedroom. It was surprisingly sparse considering how long he had lived in the castle. It was a single bed with grey blankets and sheets. There was a wardrobe that looked very similar to the one in my own room, and he had a desk that was plain as well. The only possession in the room that showed any sort of personality was the bookcase that stretched across an entire wall and was brimming with all sorts of different volumes.

I set my bag down on his bedside table, ignoring its contents and laying down while still dressed in my black pants and tank top, only bothering to shed my shoes. I lay across his bed, burying my face in the blanket and breathing in the smell of him. Something inside me trembled and though I fought against it I did not win. I began to cry for the loss of him, muffling the sound of it with the same blanket that was torturing me. Eventually I cried myself out.

* * *

When morning came, I was greeted by a man I could hardly recognize as the injured person I had helped onto the couch only hours before. He appeared to be entirely healed, and he had changed back into his regular teaching robes. He wasn't smiling or anything so dramatic, but he seemed brighter today than he had last night.

"It appears that I hit you with quite a bit of force last night," he said, his eyes lingering on the side of my face rather than meeting my eyes. "I suppose it is good you awoke, as it is likely you have a concussion if that bruise is any indication of the level of damage caused by the blow."

I reached up instinctively to feel the side of my head, it was tender, but I didn't think there was any terrible damage.

"My thoughts are too clear for me to have been concussed," I said, forcing a chuckle that I didn't feel particularly happy. "Are you here to modify my memory?"

"I am," he said with a frown. "But I thought I'd apply this bruise paste first if that's alright."

I nodded my assent, but then I closed my eyes. I didn't want to watch him do something caring. I might get the wrong idea, and that would only hurt me more. His fingers were gentle as he gently worked the cool paste into my skin, and my heart rippled with the realization that closing my eye did little to save me. I needed distance.

"There we go," he said, and I heard him screwing the cap back onto the container. "Now we'll take care of that memory. I need to look in to your eyes."

I reluctantly opened my eyes, and met his dark gaze. His face was closer than I expected, but I stifled my surprise and held his gaze.

"I want you to focus on the potion," he explained as he gently grasped my head with one hand, and pressed his wand to my temple with the other. "Focus on those memories, and I will remove them."

I nodded as well as I could while in his hold, and let my mind wander to creating the potion. I felt a strange tugging sensation as he worked, and my mind scrambled to pull up the memories of brewing the potion, as the memories of how it was created slipped from my mind. He worked efficiently, and soon I couldn't remember what it was I had thought of when studying combative potions that had led to all of this. The last thing I forgot was the notes I had taken in relation to the potion.

"That should do it," he said as he released me. "I have something to take care of, and then I will fetch the headmaster to help with creating your hiding place. You may shower while I am gone if you wish."

He swept away quickly, and I decided that perhaps a shower sounded quite nice. I took my duffel bag with me, and went in search of his bathroom. Once back in the living room I saw that he had several more bookshelves, and I couldn't help but smile to myself. Severus Snape was a bibliophile, that was endearing, and that was unfortunate as well.

I went through the door on the right, and discovered that it was in fact the bathroom, which had a bit more personality than his bedroom. He had a black porcelain claw footed tub that was large enough to comfortably fit two people. The curtain that hung around it to accommodate showering was green with a great silver snake that stretched from one corner to the other. Slytherin through and through, I smiled to myself. I climbed into the shower, and attempted to wash this reality away.

* * *

My reality changed drastically after Severus both caught me and saved me. I could no longer go in public if I wished to live. I had a new set of chambers that were hidden behind those of Severus, and that no one else could gain access too. I now had a kitchen and a small living room to go with a bedroom and small bathroom like I had previously resided in. Severus brought me weekly supplies of groceries from the house elves, so that I could make my own meals. The room was warded against house elves as well so no one could use their magic to get to me, and that left me isolated to one guest. Not that Severus was always interested in visiting with me.

I no longer seemed to have a purpose. I couldn't continue my medical research, since Adeline Riddle had disappeared from the face of the earth. I couldn't go to the library to find something to read to occupy my time. Severus had his own personal library, not far from me, but I wasn't sure that I was welcome to sneak out of my chambers and enter his, even if only for something to read.

I was allowed to keep brewing the wolfsbane potion for Remus Lupin, but that wasn't exactly exciting, and frankly the ingredients made me sick to my stomach after my brush with werewolfism. Severus allowed me to continue brewing for the hospital wing, but I had to leave the potions out, sorted by type, so that he could label them. Even my handwriting had gone into hiding apparently.

I had gotten so used to working out on a regular basis since last summer, so being cooped up in my tiny little apartment was stifling. If I made a circuit jogging out of the bathroom, through the living room, and into the bedroom, before going back to where I had come from I could almost convince myself it was a lap. And if I ran my ramshackle lap one hundred times it would equal to a mile. Still I would give anything to go outside, maybe run a lap around the lake.

I was terribly lonely, though I was loath to admit it. The only time I saw social interaction was when Severus was picking up potions or when he returned from a death eater meeting too injured to treat himself. When he was picking up the potions it was all business, and when he was showing a weakness in requesting my help with his injuries he was abrasive and withdrawn.

"Addi, may I come in?" he voice came through the door, startling me out of my rhythm of running around my chambers.

I checked the clock and saw that it was four in the afternoon, and though the date hardly mattered much to me anymore I saw that it was December 15th. I didn't have any potions brewed for him, and it was far too early in the day for him to have returned from a meeting in need of medical treatment. What did he want? I disregarded the fact that I was only wearing running shorts and a sports bra, and that I was drenched in sweat after running for over an hour, and made my way over to the door.

"Are you injured?" I asked as I opened the door and pulled my wand from where I had stowed it away in my bun. "Did I forget a potion?"

I was surprised by how hoarse my voice was before realizing it had been nearly a week since I had spoken out loud. I hoped that he didn't notice.

"No I wanted to talk," he said in what might have actually been a stammer, averting his eyes. "I can come back when you are dressed. Why are you sweating anyway?"

"I was running," I answered without explanation as I left the doorway to go grab a t-shirt off of the back of the chair and tossed it on. "I thought you were hurt, so I wasn't much concerned with propriety. Would you like some tea?"

"Yes please," he answered quietly as he entered fully into the room, and closed the door behind him.

I left him to take a seat in my cramped living room, and went into the kitchen to collect my small tea service. I filled the tea pot with water and charmed it to start warming itself while I collected the milk, sugar, and honey. I wasn't entirely sure how he took his tea, but this was all I had to offer. I arranged them on the tray and then, because I was a bit embarrassed I attempted to dab some of the seat that had collected on my face and chest away with a dish towel. I still smelled a bit like a gym though.

I took the tray, with the now hot pot of tea water out and set it on the coffee table in front of Severus before hurrying into my bedroom and spritzing a bit of my perfume on to cover the smell. When I smelled more like a flower than a gym bag I dug out my slippers and put them on before going out into the living room and sitting in the chair opposite Severus's position on the couch.

"How do you take your tea?" he asked me as he set his own cup aside and began pouring one for me.

"Two sugars please," I said quietly, folding my legs beneath me and sinking into my chair. "What did you want to talk about?"

"Anything." He said perhaps a little too quickly. "It occurs to me that you do not get any social interaction locked away in these rooms, and you must be going crazy in want of someone to talk to."

"After a while you grow used to the silence," I offered with a shrug before taking the proffered cup of tea.

"What have you done to keep yourself busy?" he asked conversationally, though his eyes belayed his lack of ease.

"This and that," I said noncommittally. "Today I chose running as something to do. I've put in the equivalent of 10 miles today. The mile is still taking me six minutes though, there is room for improvement."

"You ran ten miles in here?" he said with a quirked brow, looking around my chambers in confusion.

"I would fail to tell you just how many trips from the bathroom, through the living room, to the bedroom that is, but yes about ten miles," I shrugged. "What is your mile time?"

"I do not run for pleasure," he smirked. "I imagine it would take me an hour to run a mile. I'd much rather read."

"I noticed that you are a bit of a bibliophile," I smiled. "I've run out of books to read. And frankly you can only reread the same poetry book so many times. I could recite it all from memory now, and I find that a bit embarrassing actually."

"I rather like being able to recite poetry from memory," he shrugged. "I will lend you some of my books however, if only to ensure you'll be fully dressed the next time I visit."

"Do you plan to visit again?" I asked, taking a sip of tea to hide my enthusiasm for such a prospect.

"I'd like to," he admitted quietly. "I did not realize how much I actually spoke to you until I wasn't really in your presence any longer."

"Is there something in particular that you'd like to talk about?" I asked, sensing that there might be a deeper reason for the darkness in his eyes.

"There is much I am sworn to secrecy on," he said tightly. "I do not have the option of speaking about them."

"Well Adeline Riddle has disappeared off the face of the earth," I said with a smirk. "Why shouldn't you be allowed to speak about your troubles in an empty room?"

"You would keep my secrets Addi?" he asked softly, gazing at me over his tea cup.

"Haven't I already?" I countered, thinking about Lily Potter and hoping that my face did not betray the now old pain.

"Would you still if you were allowed to talk to someone other than me?" he asked shrewdly.

"Of course," I snapped. "You expect me to trust you implicitly, and yet you do not trust me at all. It is insulting. Even when I was striving to destroy the death eaters I left you untouched, what more do you ask of me?"

"You left me untouched because you thought I would kill you, there was no other reason," he snipped. "That hardly instills trust."

"There were other reasons!" I snapped back, and then I blanched, praying he wouldn't ask what those might be.

He stared, watching all of the color drain from my body, and then he just nodded and moved on.

"Perhaps I have been insulting," he sighed, a peace offering. "You haven't given me a reason to mistrust you."

"Thank you," I said quietly, returning my attention to me tea. "Will you tell me what it is that is troubling you?"

"A student has joined the ranks of the death eaters, and he has been tasked with killing the headmaster," he said quickly on an exhalation, his grip convulsing on his tea cup. "It has been demanded of me that I take his place, as the headmaster wishes to preserve the student's soul."

Silence reigned between us, and my ears seemed to be ringing as I attempted to wrap my mind around his words. He was rigid as he awaited my response and I had the feeling that whatever I said next had more weight on it that I was ready for. I didn't have some profound saying to offer him, I was too floored by what he had said.

"And what of your soul," I asked finally, embarrassed that my lip trembled when I voiced my concern. "Does he not care what damage might come to you?"

For a moment his face wall filled with acute pain, but then his eyes drifted closed and a sense of peace seemed to settle on him. The rigidity fell away, and his back slumped into the couch. Suddenly I could see just how tired he was; how much strain he was under. It seemed I had answered in the way he wished, and my reward was the disappearance of all barriers between us.

"He does not seem concerned," he said quietly, his eyes snapping open. "He seems to have assumed that I have already done such a thing, and thus only I know how it would affect my soul."

"But you haven't have you?" I asked, and I knew in my heart of hearts without even asking him that he had never actually killed anyone before.

"No," he answered, and there was so much pain in that one word that my heart broke for him.

"Do you want me to do it for you?" I heard myself offering, my mouth taking control while my mind raced with the emotions this situation invoked.

"I won't trade damaging my soul for damaging yours," he growled, slamming his tea cup town and glaring at me with blazing eyes.

"I do not have a soul in which too damage," I answered plainly, thought my throat felt tight. "Surely you understood that when you realized that I stalked and mortally wounded several of your colleagues without feeling a stitch of guilt?"

"You were following your heart," he said so quietly I almost couldn't hear him.

I set my tea down so my shaking hands could not give me away. I was on the verge of an emotional outburst but I wasn't going to let him see that. He had gotten too close once more, and I needed him to stay away if I were going to hold myself together when I knew that I could never have him.

"You don't really think I have a heart do you?" I said coldly as I stood from my chair. "My name is Riddle for a reason, and it was only dumb luck that I didn't kill them, not some righteous choice."

I left him sitting there as I stalked into my bedroom and swiftly closed the door behind me. I held my breath, listening to see if he was still there. My lips were trembling uncontrollably, and my eyes were burning with the tears that were threatening to burst free. It was only refusing to let air move through my lungs that kept me from exploding as I waited.

There was a gentle clinking as he cleaned up our tea, and then I heard the door open and close. When I was fairly sure he had left I slumped onto the floor and allowed myself to cry, my own ragged breathing drowning out the world around me. I cried for wanting him, and I cried for realizing that I wasn't sure I had been lying about my missing soul. I cried for Severus, and the horrible potion he was in, and I cried because he wouldn't let me take his place.

* * *

Severus began visiting more often, though our conversations were not nearly as frank. There was much more subtext, and I could see him unraveling as the year went on, though his focus seemed to be on convincing me that I had a soul without actually saying those words aloud. He began giving me books about soul magic, and a few metaphysical muggle books that spoke about souls as well. When we spoke about those it was half secretive conversations where we both knew we were discussing whether or not I had a soul though neither of us admitted it.

Other times we talked about the other books he filtered out of his library and into my possession. As the months went on I learned more about potions, but I also learned of ancient magic that no one had used in years, as well as the theories needed to make spells of my own. On the one had I rather liked the idea of creating my own spells as I had done with potions, but it was the knowledge of the potion I had created with such blind intentions that kept me from trying my hand at spell work.

"It will be soon," he said to me late one night during a rather unexpected visit where the two of us sat watch the flames in my fireplace. "When it happens, I will have to flee the castle. You will be stranded here for a while."

I nodded gently, my eyes locked on the flames as I tried to process what this death would mean.

"I will be bringing you as much food as I can over the next few days," he continued softly. "But you will have to make do for at least a month while school ends, and the power shift happens. I have it under good authority that I will be instated as headmaster after it had been done, and at that time I will be able to return for you. We will move these chambers so they are connected to the headmaster's chambers rather than those of the defense against the dark arts teacher."

"What?" I asked, confused by the revelation that my chambers were accessible by someone else. "I thought I was connected to your chambers?"

"You are," he said with an airy chuckle that had no mirth behind it. "I suppose in all the drama this year, I forgot to tell you I am not the potion's master this year."

"No that never came up in conversation," I said with a shake of the head. "He really intended you to be gone by the end of the year then didn't he?"

"Yes," Severus sighed before absently scratching at his left wrist. "I have to go now. I'll bring you supplies in the morning.

* * *

He did not arrive with supplies in the morning. Whatever summons had come, I suspected it had lead to him having to follow through with the plan to kill Albus Dumbledore. That meant a lot of bad things, the first being that Severus had committed a murder, and was sure to be suffering from that. There was also the fact that someone had died. It alluded to the theory that I did not have a soul, that I was more concerned by his failed attempt to bring me supplies. I was running low on food, and now I was going to have to find a way to stretch that food out for at least a month, until he could come for me.

* * *

It took him longer than a month. Maybe it was because the night in question had come sooner than he expected, or maybe something else had come up that was keeping him away. The problem was that I hadn't had much food left when it had happened, and stretching it to last a month meant I was basically always hungry.

When he hadn't shown up the next morning, and I suspected he wouldn't be returning soon, I took an inventory of what food was present in my chambers. I was in the possession of six eggs, half a loaf of bread, a jar of jam, a bow of chopped strawberries, and a tin with twenty biscuits in it.

The fruit had been the most perishable, so I ate that first, endeavoring to make it last, I stretched across two days by drinking an entire pot of tea each day. I measured the days passing in the month by the one egg meal with multiple cups of tea, that slowly morphed into a piece of toast with jam as m one meal, and water as I had run out of tea more quickly than I had expected. When I had to result to a few biscuits as a meal, I knew I was close to the end of the month, but I was too tired to care much about it.

I spent my days lazing about, conserving my energy, while I waited for Severus to come back. I knew I had lost far too much weight for it to be healthy, but I was not overly concerned at first. But then I reached the end of my rationing, which meant it had been a month since he had left, and still he did not arrive. I was so tired, but beneath that I was afraid. Perhaps if I had been able to predict something like this happening, I might have attempted to break the wards that kept my room sealed and let myself out while I was still powerful enough to muster that sort of magic.

But now I was malnourished and magically drained, and I doubted I had the strength to hover a feather, let alone try and destroy the heavy wards that Severus had used to protect me. It was ironic that they were there to keep me safe, and they might end up being the reason I died. I couldn't get out of my chambers to find food, and I was literally starving to death.

When I was a week into the second month, and I felt like I was literally knocking on deaths door, with water being the only thing that had passed my lips in days, the last of the jam having gone nearly five days prior I grew desperate. I crawled to my bedroom, as walking was asking too much from my exhausted body, and I began dizzily picking through my potion ingredients for something I could eat without poisoning myself.

My world shrunk down to a small spot on the floor of my bedroom, with a pitcher of water and my open box of potion ingredients to keep my company. I was wrapped in my blanket to keep warm, but I hadn't the energy to pull my pillow from the bed, so my head rested on the floor. Another week had passed, and I had worked through all of the ingredients I could safely eat, safe for one wolfsbane flower, and half a pitcher of water. It was sad to look at, but I realized with a sinking feeling in my gut that it was likely my last meal. If I weren't so dehydrated I would cry. I needed more water, but I couldn't seem to pull myself up off of the floor to go fetch water. Looking at my body I was sure I had lost several stone.

I burned through what was left of my energy to sit up on my elbow and eat the disgusting purple flower, and chase it down will the rest of my water. I lay back down, pretending that I had enjoyed a hearty meal, and closed my eyes against the hallucinations that were growing more frequent and waited. I wondered vaguely how long it would take me to die, but I didn't have the energy to focus long enough to do any sort of math on it. I clutched my blanket as tightly as I could, and I drifted.

* * *

"Wake up Addi," his voice floated through to me, with an odd echoing quality to it.

I opened my eyes, and though they were blurry, I recognized the form of Severus Snape before me. I realized that for the first time in longer than I could remember, I felt warm. I looked down at my body and I saw that I was cocooned within several blankets, and I was nestled into an unfamiliar couch with Severus crouching before me.

"Tip you head back, easy does it," he murmured as he tilted my head back for me, and pressed the mouth of a water bottle to my lips and tipped it back so cool water spilled into my mouth. "There you go, drink up."

I began to suck greedily at the water, desperate to grasp the bottle, but my arms were tucked firmly to my side with the tightly wrapped blankets. I was so anxious for the water that I tried to drink it too quickly and I began to choke. Severus quickly stole the bottle away and tilted me forward so he could pat my back until I stopped choking.

"Easy there, there's more water where this came from, no need to rush," he said, continuing to speak in the soft even voice that I found incredibly comforting.

"Where were you?" I asked in a hoarse whispery voice. "I tried to ration everything out, but it was more than a month."

"I was being heavily hunted by the order, and I couldn't return as soon as I thought," he admitted guilty. "Minerva in particular took longer to leave the castle than I accounted for. I was such an idiot for placing a ward against house elves. If it weren't for that I would have at least been able to get food to you, even though you couldn't leave your chambers."

"I'm so hungry Severus," I groaned, slumping back into the couch, utterly tired just from conversation. "I'd eat just about anything. But no wolfsbane, I never want to eat that again."

"That was ingenious by the way," he smirked as he lifted the bottle of water to my lips once more. "The aconite was a risk of course, but choosing that over the wormwood was obviously the right way to go."

"If I hadn't succumbed to unconsciousness I might have done it, if only to get it over with," I sighed, when all the water had gone. "I had already come to terms with the idea that I was going to die. Can I please have something to eat?"

"Of course, the broth should be warm by now," he said, quickly disappearing from my side and reappearing with a steaming bowl. "It's just chicken broth; it will take a few days before you'll be able to eat solid food."

I nodded my head, not really listening, my attention focused entirely on the bowl of broth in his hands. He seemed aware of this, and quickly set to work spooning the broth into my mouth. I ate greedily, and it was gone quickly. There was a part of me desperate for more, but I could feel the tightness in my stomach that told me that having just broth was the right choice. Anything else, surely would have been too much.

"Thank you," I sighed tiredly when it had gone.

"I'm so sorry Addi," he whispered fervently. "Can you forgive me?"

There was such desperation in that question, and I wondered if there was more too it. He was desperate for my forgiveness and I wondered if it was just because I had nearly starved to death. Did this have something to do with Dumbledore as well?

"There is nothing to forgive," I sighed, meeting his eyes so he could see the honesty in mine. "You didn't have a choice."

His eyes remained tight, like he was hurting, but a weight dropped out of his shoulders. That was all I could hope for at the moment. I didn't have the energy to argue the point any further.

"Can I have another blanket?" I asked him.

"Yes of course," he said, jumping to his feet. "I was going to move you to the bed anyway."

He scooped me up off the couch, and I was surprised that he didn't seem to be exerting himself at all as he hauled me out of the opulent living room and into an equally luxurious bedroom with a massive four poster bed decked out in purple satin. This must be the headmaster's chambers, and Severus must not have tried to personalize his rooms yet. I suppose he was distracted by his skeleton apprentice.

"Sweet dreams Addi," Severus said quietly as he deposited me on the bed, and draped another blanket over me.

* * *

There were three more days of broth and being confined to the bed or the couch, but slowly my strength began to return. When I was first able to stand on my own I took the first bath I had taken in weeks and it was glorious. My entire outlook on life was brighter when I was scrubbed clean, wearing freshly laundered clothes, and eating an actual sandwich with bread and everything.

When I was eating solid food, and walking around on steady feet, Severus moved me to my own chambers. They were accessible in his chambers through a hidden door in the back of his wardrobe that he chose to keep unwarded. It was unlikely that anyone would be snooping that far into his personal space, and he was loath to put me in the position of being locked in a prison if something were to happen to him.

I didn't really want to leave his chambers, and I got the impression that he wanted to keep me in his presence, but two new teachers had arrived on campus, and they were both death eaters. It wouldn't do for them to happen upon me in the headmaster's chambers, and as that was where they came when reporting to Severus I had to be careful. He visited me in my chambers as frequently as he could though.

I was grateful that he no longer allowed me to feel lonely, but I was more grateful that he frequently brought me hearty meals. Some of the weariness seemed to drain from his face when he saw that I was putting on weight. He seemed even more relieved by how happy I was to see him every time he showed up.

I was a goner. After nearly dying and having Severus nurse me back to health I was completely in love with him. It didn't matter that he was in love with Lily Potter, or that he was thirteen years older than me. I was absolutely smitten with him, and I couldn't hide the way my face lit up when he was in the room. He did not return my feelings, but I could see that he gained something from my reaction. It loosened his shoulders, and brought his chin up so his head was no longer angled at the floor.

* * *

We talked endlessly when he visited me. The conversations were light and pointless, but I could tell that he was avoiding important subjects to keep from falling apart. We couldn't talk about Dumbledore because he was still torn up over having killed him. And we absolutely couldn't talk about him being headmaster, because of what he was being forced to do to keep his post. He didn't have to tell me any of that for me to understand. I could hear through the walls what happened in his office, and I knew that he went to sleep with the sound of children's screams in his ears.

Not so long ago I would have believed that he enjoyed doing that, but I knew better now. And if I hadn't known better I would have learned quickly, because Severus was having nightmares. I would never mention a word to him, but I could hear his moans and occasional screams through the thin barrier of the wardrobe when he slept. I wanted desperately to comfort him, but I couldn't risk entering his chambers should he have a surprise visitor. Not to mention he would never allow me to hold him like I knew he needed to be held.

I was growing stronger now that I had food, and I was able to exercise again but he was growing weaker. Each day he seemed a little more sallow, a little more shaken. The year was taking a toll on him, and I began to fear he wasn't going to survive it. I didn't know what to do for him, nor did I know what I would do if I lost him.

* * *

The only blessing was that this year seemed to be passing far more quickly than past years had. Perhaps it was because the days hand begun to blend together as I continued on in my life of hiding, but one moment it was September, and the next it was Christmas. I was embarrassed that I yet again could not buy Severus a present, so I folded origami flowers out of spare parchment and gave him those. It seemed like he liked them, but he kept them in my room as it would be impossible to explain where they had come from if he put them in his room. The sting of that was taken away by his gift of gourmet chocolate he gave to me.

And just as quickly as Christmas had come, it was suddenly May. The first day of May was not much to note usually, but in an effort to draw me out of a mood Severus had given me 'May day' flowers, and suddenly the day seemed much brighter. Sure he wasn't in love with me, and he wasn't promising anything other than to keep me alive, but he had given me beautiful stargazer lilies and that made the day worth remembering. May 1, 1998 had somehow become the best day of my life. I was so buoyant you'd have thought Severus had kissed me.


	11. Chapter 11

_**Songs for this chapter: Please Don't Leave Me by P!nk and Torn by Natalie Imbruglia**_

* * *

_**Warning: (most of) the dialogue between Severus and Voldy is taken directly from the book, I don't own it, J K Rowling is a much better writer than I.**_

* * *

If May first was the best day of my life, then May second was the worst day of my life. It had dawned as a normal day, just like any other, but that hadn't lasted. At some point in the afternoon, Severus had been accosted in his office by the Carrows informing him that Harry Potter had been spotted in Hogsmeade, and then things had rapidly spiraled out of control. I got one glance of his worried face when he told me to ward my door and to stay hidden away no matter what happened, and then he was gone.

He didn't explain why I needed to ward my door, but I knew something drastic must be about to happen. There had been death eaters on campus for the entire year, and he hadn't worried about whether or not my door was warded. So something worse than death eaters must be coming. My blood ran cold when I realized that must mean that He Who Must Not Be Named was coming.

It wasn't long after that thought popped into my head that I heard the announcement ringing out through the castle for all of the students to gather in the great hall. I hurried over to my window, and watch the students who had been in outdoor lessons march into the castle in their block formations. I hated seeing them move like that, but acting like automatons was the only thing that seemed to keep the Carrows off their backs, and sometimes that didn't even work.

When all of the students had disappeared from the grounds once more I remembered that I was supposed to have warded my door, and hurried to do that. I put several different wards in place, all keyed to allow Severus through if he came to find me, but to keep everyone else out. When they were in place I looked around my little living room and wondered vaguely what I should do with myself. Something about hiding away in my ivory tower while mayhem threatened to break out in the castle below me felt wrong. And yet disobeying an order from Severus felt wrong as well.

I changed into my familiar black pants, and a sweatshirt with the London Eye on it that I had sneakily removed from Severus's wardrobe and kept for myself. I decided to put on my running shoes in case I needed o make a quick escape, and then I started pacing around my living room.

The beginning of the end of the world, surprisingly came with an announcement. I was pacing to and fro in my living room, wondering what was going on below me, and suddenly my head was filled with the voice of pure evil. My skin crawled with thoughts of him, and my heart beat faster as his words sunk in. Harry Potter was here, and with him had come the end. This was going to be it, the battle to end all battles, and it would be fought at the castle. Did Severus expect me to stay here in the tower and just wait it out?

I stopped at the window and tried to think through what I should do, and I was shocked to see that Severus was fleeing. He was literally flying across the grounds! My shock at discovering that he could apparently fly without a broom was overridden with the need to know why he was running. What had happened down there?

I tracked him across the grounds, and watched as he disappeared down beneath the whomping willow. I wouldn't have even known there was a tunnel there if he hadn't told me the bare essentials of what had happened on the night that he both gained and lost and Order of Merlin. So what was he doing in the tunnel? Was he going to hide in the shrieking shack? What was he hiding from? Or who…

He would be angry at me for even considering it, but I couldn't in good conscience leave him to face whatever it was that would make him hide on his own. I tucked my wand up the sleeve of my stolen sweatshirt, and completely disregarded the wards I had just erected and barreled my way out of the wardrobe in the headmaster's bedroom. I quickly scanned my surroundings to be sure that I was alone, and then I hurried over to his cedar chest that I knew was full of his emergency potion ingredients.

I couldn't be sure what would be needed, or even if anything was needed, but I began rummaging through his supplies anyway. I plucked out a bezoar, and then I began sorting through his readymade potions. I grabbed a vial of blood replenisher and a wound cleaning potion, and stuck them in the kangaroo pocket of the sweatshirt along with the bezoar. Just to be safe I grabbed some burn healing paste as well. I began running through all of the healing spells I knew in my head as I snuck over to the bedroom door and peaked into the office to see if there was anyone there.

The office was empty, so I slipped out of the bedroom and then I paused. I cast a silencing charm first on myself, and then placed a duplicate on my pocket to silence the vials in case they clinked against each other. Then I cast a disillusionment charm and disappeared from my own view. There would be an added danger of discovery when I was passing through doorways, but otherwise it would help me to make my way to the tunnel under the whomping willow without being discovered.

I snuck swiftly down the golden stairwell that led up to the headmaster's office, and I held my breath, refusing to move a muscle as the stone wall slid open. I was praying that no one would notice what was happening. When faced with the reality of what was taking place in the castle, I realized that the opening or closing of a door was going to be of little consequence to those involved.

All-out war was being waged at Hogwarts, and no one seemed to care what I was doing. That was a blessing, but trying to make my way to Severus without getting myself killed was going to be a challenge. I slid out into the hallway, and dodged to the side to avoid some spell that I couldn't identify that shot down the hall.

The air was clouded with dust, and the failing sunlight from outside was filtering in from places where the stone wall had been blown away. I tried not to look at the floor as I hurried toward the entrance hall, but it was impossible not to notice the bodies of those who had already fallen. My ears were ringing with the sound of people screaming, and shouting, and hexing, and crying. My stomach turned with the smell of scorched flesh, and spilled blood but I kept putting one foot in front of the other.

I encountered my first real obstacle when I skidded into the entrance hall where battle was being waged, and saw that the heavy front doors were closed. There was no way I was going to get those doors open without drawing attention to myself. I crept toward the door, wracking my brain for a plan on how to get those doors open.

Luck was with me, and when I got within about fifteen feet of the door, someone missed their mark with a blasting hex, and one of the doors was knocked off its hinges. The disintegrating wood was shot in the air raining down on all of us, and if anyone had been paying attention they might have noticed that there was a void where the pieces of wood seemed to stop moving. No curses were thrown my way as I ran through the now open door so I counted my blessings and chose not to worry about the wound that had just been inflicted on my forehead by one of the chunks of wood.

I brushed lingering bits of wood and pulp off of me as I crossed the grounds to keep anyone from noticing a piece of wood seeming to move on its own accord across the grounds. The battle was far worse on the grounds, apparently only the luck few of the death eaters had actually made their way into the castle. Curses were flying every which way, and there were actual giants roaring about the grounds wrecking havoc.

My heart was slamming in my chest as I ran flat out toward the whomping willow. The tree itself seemed to have some sort of loyalty to the school as it swung violently at the death eaters if they got too close. It almost made me smile, but then I realized I was going to have to try and sneak past that tree, and it was unlikely that my disillusionment charm was going to protect me there.

I scampered out of the way of a curse, and stumbled over a still masked death eater who was not moving from the spot he had be unceremoniously sprawled upon the ground. I clutched my wand tightly in my hand prepared to defend myself against foe or tree as I drew closer to the whomping willow. Still no one seemed to have noticed me in anyway, so no spell came my way as I stepped into the range of the tree.

Invisible or not, the tree seemed to know I was there and a branch immediately began to swing in my direction. Other than the moment in Knockturn Alley when I thought I might actually lose to Greyback, I had never been more grateful for the training I had received at SIS. I picked up my speed, and trusted my body and threw myself backward as the branch came close to me. I flipped backward over the branch with one hand holding my pocket and its contents close to my body, barely managing to get my feet under me in time. I landed in a crouch and immediately propelled myself forward, half crawling across the ground, advancing toward the opening at the base of the tree but keeping my sense alert for the next attack.

This time the branch came smashing down from above, and I almost didn't roll out of the way in time. The ground shook with the force of impact, and the branch was shooting back up into the air, preparing for the next blow. I scuttled backward quickly, and when the branch began to swing back down in my direction again I dove head first into the tunnel, turning it into a roll at the last minute and landing in a crouch in the sudden darkness.

The only sound in the tunnel was my slightly haggard breathing, so I knew that Severus must have advanced on to the shrieking shack. I didn't know however if he was alone, so I focused on calming my breathing as I began to creep down the dark tunnel. Within a few feet I was moving silently again, and eventually my eyes began to adjust to the darkness. I encountered no one else as I advanced to the end of the tunnel and found that the door leading into the shack was open.

I hoisted myself silently into the house, watching avidly for any sign of movement in the dimly lit room. There was not even a sign of Severus, and I wondered vaguely if he was upstairs as I stood up inside the room and took my surroundings in fully. I cast a spell to disrupt the dust on the floor, swirling it about haphazardly as I hurried over to stand sentinel against the wall. Within seconds it had settled once more, hiding any trace of my footsteps.

Almost immediately there was a stirring upstairs, and I knew that Severus must be up there. He was here, and he had felt the presence of my magic. He came swiftly down the stairs in a half crouch, moving like a cat, with his wand at the ready. He paused at the base of the stairs when he appeared to be alone, but then his eyes began sweeping the room with more focus. I wondered if he could smell me, or if his magical senses were simply that strong and he could sense my presence.

It quickly became a moot point, as a cracking rent the air, and He Who Must Not Be Named appeared in the room with us. I swallowed a startled scream, and my eyes locked on the snake he had brought with him suspended in a shield. What was he doing with that snake? I raised my wand, ready to strike, and that was when Severus's eyes flitted over to my position against the wall. I could tell from the slight widening of his eyes, that disillusioned or not he knew I was there even if he didn't know for sure who it was. He must have sense that whoever it was, they were on his side, because he gave me a very subtle shake of the head. I did not lower my wand, but resigned to staying out of whatever was about to happen unless I had no other choice.

"Severus why have I been forced to seek you out?" He Who Must Not Be Named asked in a high pitched voice that sent goose bumps over my skin. "Why were you not awaiting me in the castle as I requested?"

"The castle staff launched an attack on me tonight with the intent to kill me," Severus said in a calm voice that did not betray any emotion, though it painted a horrible picture in my mind's eye. "I knew you wished to speak to me about the appearance of Harry Potter tonight, I endeavored to be alive for such a conversation."

"Very good," he answered noncommittally. "Why did you not use your control as headmaster to keep the others from erecting wards to keep my men out?"

"I had to flee too quickly…" Severus offered, his voice sounding less sure. ".., my Lord, their resistance is crumbing…"

"And it is doing so without your help," he snapped, his voice rising slightly in pitch. "Skilled wizard though you are, Severus, I do not think you will make much difference now. We are almost there… almost."

My heart took of at a sprint in my chest, and my wand arm trembled with the urge to curse this evil beast that was threatening the man that I loved. Again a subtle shake of the head told me that Severus had seen the movement of my arm, and he was beginning me not to move in the only way he could, though his attention seemed to be focused on his master.

"Let me find the boy. Let me bring you Potter." Severus suggested, and I sensed a twinge of panic in him. "I know I can find him, my Lord. Please."

Severus moved further from the stairs, bringing himself fully into the room, just past the opening I had snuck in through. I wished I could reach out to him and protect him somehow, but I held my ground at the wall.

"I have a problem, Severus," he said in a soft voice, that was deceptively calm.

"My Lord?" Severus questioned, his voice betraying his concern, though I was certain his master would read it incorrectly.

"Why doesn't it work for me, Severus?" he asked, holding up a wand that looked suspiciously like Dumbledore's old wand from where I was standing.

Why was he asking Severus? His expertise was potions not wand lore.

"My… my Lord?" Severus questioned blankly. "I do not understand. You have performed extraordinary magic with that wand."

"No," he answered sternly "I have performed my usual magic. I am extraordinary, but this wand… no. It had not reveal the wonder it has promised. I feel no difference between this wand, and the one I procured from Ollivander all those years ago."

Severus continued to watch his master impassively, and I watch him closely trying to understand how he was supposed to answer such a question. What was it about this wand that was so special, and how was Severus supposed to know anything about it?

"No difference," He Who Must Not Be Named continued rather petulantly.

Severus held his tongue still, and the evil git began to pace about the room. He looked even scarier when his face caught a bit of light and I saw how manic he looked. Something terrible was about to happen, I could feel it.

"I have thought long and hard, Severus… do you know why I have called you back from battle?"

"No, my Lord, but I beg you will let me return." Severus answered, his attention now focused entirely on the snake that was coiling beneath the shield that I suspected was to protect the snake from attack not the other way around. "Let me find Potter."

"You sound like Lucius. Neither of you understands Potter as I do. He does not need finding. Potter will come to me. I knew his weakness you see, his one great flaw. He will hate watching others struck down around him, knowing that it is for him that it happens. He will want to stop it at any cost. He will come."

My stomach turned over when I realized that he was speaking the truth. That truth meant there was no other excuse for Severus to leave this shack, and I knew in my gut he needed to leave. I tightened my grip on my wand, preparing to strike, but then Severus began to speak again.

"But my Lord, he might be killed accidentally by someone other than yourself."

"My instructions to the death eaters have been perfectly clear. Capture Potter. Kill his friends, the more the better, but do not kill him." He Who Must Not Be Named said arrogantly. "But it is of you that I wished to speak, Severs, not Harry Potter. You have been very valuable to me. Very valuable."

Somehow his compliment was more menacing than anything else he had said tonight.

"My Lord knows I seek only to serve him. But let me go and find the boy, my Lord." Severus said, his voice growing a bit desperate, and I knew then that he knew his death was coming as swiftly as I did. "Let me bring him to you. I know I can."

"I have told you, no!" he shouted, and the air seemed to drain out of the room as his magic spiked and then receded. "My concern at the moment, Severus, is what will happen when I finally meet the boy!"

"My Lord, there can be no question, surely?" Severus said, his voice softer.

"But there is a question, Severus. There is." He said in a dangerous voice, and he stopped his pacing. "Why did both the wands I have used fail when directed at Harry Potter?'

"I cannot answer that, my Lord," Severus said, and even I knew he was lying, my heart leapt into my throat knowing that the danger had just risen.

"Can't you?" he questioned icily, his red eyes glowing with malice. "My wand of yew did everything of which I asked it, Severus, except kill Harry Potter. Twice it failed. Ollivander told me under torture of the twin cores, told me to take another's wand. I did so, but Lucius's wand shattered upon meeting Potter's."

"I have no explanation, my Lord." Severus answered, and it seemed at least on that count he was telling the truth, but still I did not breathe a sigh of relief, because the snake had his full attention and thus mine.

"I sought a third wand, Severus, the Elder wand, the Wand of Destiny the Deathstick. I took it from its previous master. I took it from the grave of Albus Dumbledore."

Severus's gaze snapped up to meet those red eyes and he looked as if he were staring into the face of death. I felt as if I were in the presence of it myself. The elder wand? I thought that was a legend. Surely Dmbeldore hadn't owned it all this time? And now it was in the hands of pure evil, and that evil man had some ax to grind with Severus. My knees shook with my fear.

"My Lord let me go to the boy," Severus breathed, and I could sense that his mouth had gone dry with his fear.

"All this long night when I am on the brink of victory, I have sat here," he whispered, his red eyes locked on his servant. "Wondering, wondering, why the Elder Wand refuses to be what it ought to be, refuses to perform as legend says it must perform for its rightful owner… and I think I have the answer."

Severus did not speak, and my mind reach the conclusion of what he had likely been lying about earlier. My heart seemed to stop beating entirely as it dawned on me who must be the rightful owner of the wand.

"Perhaps you already know it? You are a clever man, after all, Severus. You have been a good and faithful servant, and I regret what must happen." He pressed.

"My Lord," Severus protested weakly.

"The Elder Wand cannot serve me properly, Severus, because I am not its true master. The Elder Wand belongs to the wizard who killed its last owner. You killed Albus Dumbledore. While you live, Severus, the Elder Wand cannot truly be mine."

"My Lord!" Severus protested again, drawing his wand to defend himself.

"It cannot be any other way," he answered as if he were talking of the weather. "I must master the wand, Severus. Master the wand, and I master Potter at last."

It happened far too quickly after that. He Who Must Not Be Named slashed his wand through the air, releasing the snake, and ordering it to kill. And then a horrible scream tore at my heart and I saw that snakes fangs pierce his neck. There was blood pouring from the wound, and he reached for it, trying to stop the flow as he sunk to the ground. Somehow I managed to remain quiet as the evil wizard said some epitaph and took his shielded snake with him and left Severus to die in the dirty shack.

I started to go to Severus, but his eyes widened as none other than Harry Potter burst into the room, blocking my path the shaking, bleeding man on the floor. Severus was rasping and staring at Harry with what looked like a mix of terror and relief in his eyes.

"Take… it… Take… it…" he begged Harry, and it was only then I noticed the shimmering tears leaking down his cheeks.

I was so lost, as suddenly the Granger girl was there was well handing Harry a vial, and he collected what I suspected were memories. They just stood there, watching him bleed out, doing nothing to help him, and I was paralyzed by their presence.

"Look… at… me…" he whispered, and my eyes sought his, but he was staring weakly into the eyes of Harry Potter.

I watched in horror as the light seemed to drain out of his eyes, and then suddenly my head was filled with the voice of his murderer once more. I couldn't breath, I couldn't think, I couldn't feel. My world was reduced to those dark eyes that held no life as some sort of fight between the trio went down. I wasn't sure when the Weasley boy had appeared. I didn't care. I wanted them all to leave, and then suddenly they had.

I dropped to my knees at his side, dropping all of the spells that hid me, and pulling my supplies from my pocket with shaking hands.

"Please don't be dead," I begged through my tears as I forced his jaw open and put the bezoar in his mouth.

My hands were soon drenched in his blood as I tried to force him to swallow. As soon as his mouth was clear of the stone I set to work siphoning any venom I could from the wound with the wound cleaning potion and I tried to stop the flow of blood, but that was never a spell I had been any good at.

There was so much blood, on him, on me, on the floor around us. I tried to ignore it as I forced the blood replenishing potion down his throat. Still there didn't seem to be any improvement. I threw the burn past to the side in frustration, my tears growing more hysterical. I leaned my ear to his mouth listening for his breath.

"Please, please," I sobbed, wracking my mind for an answer.

It came to me in a flash. I remembered a page of the book of ancient magic he had leant to me. There was a spell in there that might work. I could give myself over to him and it might bring him back from the brink of death. There was no question as to if I loved him. Did I love him enough to die for him? For one moment I stared at my blood soaked clothes and hands, and that was all it took to know my answer.

I drew my wand once more, and used it to slice the palm of my hand open. It was ancient magic, so it was blood magic and I needed some of my own blood as well as his. When my own blood was falling rather quickly from my own hand, I placed it against the still weeping wound on his neck, allowing them to mix.

"Sanguinem meum, animam meam, animam meam," I chanted in latin, hoping that I had gotten the pronunciation right.

And then I leant forward, pitching my body over his. As many ancient spells were, this one was meant to be sealed with a kiss. How long had I dreamt of kissing those lips, and now I could, but there was no joy in it. They were lifeless, without any color, and he didn't even know I was kissing him. I thought only of my love for him as I pressed my lips against his and finished the spell.

Almost instantly it took effect. I felt my power draining out of me, and channeling through my lips into him. For a moment I could feel his body absorbing what I was giving him, and then I slipped into the growing darkness and I felt nothing at all.

* * *

**The Latin translates to: Take my blood, take my soul, take my life.**


	12. Chapter 12

_**Song for this chapter: When I Go by Brett Dennen**_

* * *

**SPOV**

* * *

The world was blurred around the edges as I opened my eyes, and I became aware of how heavy an useless my body felt long before my eyes focused enough to taken in the world around me. I was staring up at an unfamiliar ceiling, and my body felt like it had not moved in a very long time. I attempted to pull myself upright and found that my body did not cooperate. All I accomplished was a grunting sounds and forcing myself to sink further into the mattress.

"Healer Jones!" a shrill female voice screeched hurting my ears. "He's awake."

"Are you getting over excited again Sarah?" a tired female voice said from much further away. "I told you that he will move involuntarily occasionally. That does not mean he is awake or even waking up."

"His eyes are open healer Jones!" the girl screeched again, and suddenly she was in my field of vision.

She looked a bit strange with her face suspended over mine. Her brown hair was pulled back in a messy bun, and she had bright blue eyes that seemed far too excited to see me. Who was this girl, and what did she care if I was awake? For that matter, how was I alive, let alone awake? I wracked my mind, and all I could find was a fuzzy memory of looking into bright green eyes as the world went dark around me. Surely I had died.

"Well I'll be damned," the older woman said, and she stepped into my view as well, revealing herself to be older with her white hair pulled back into a fierce bun that reminded me vaguely of Minerva, though her glasses were half-moons like Albus's had been.

I abandoned that thought before it could wrench within my chest like it usually did.

"Good afternoon Mr. Snape," healer Jones said with a smile in her eyes. "Feel rested? You've had quite the cat nap."

"How long was I asleep?" I asked her, horrified to hear the gravelly and hoarse grumble that was masquerading as my voice.

"Three years," she answered flatly. "You'll find that hard to believe when you get a chance to look in a mirror as you haven't aged a day it appears, but I assure you it is in fact May of 2001."

"What the hell?" I rasped, trying and failing to sit up once more.

The girl named Sarah hurried to pull me up as if I were a rag doll, and healer Jones fluffed pillows up behind me. Sarah settled me back, and I was at least halfway seated rather than lying down, not that I was amused at being man handled.

"Your friend used magic that no one working in this hospital now had ever seen," healer Jones explained. "We had to consult with the portrait of Dilys Derwent to even begin a discussion on it, let alone figure out how to treat either of you."

"Dilys said the spell doesn't even have a name," Sarah provided without being asked. "She also said that as far as she knew it was only referenced in one book on ancient magic and there was no record of anyone actually having the guts to try it. Until the two of you were brought into the hospital she thought it was something someone had made up."

"We were able to provide you both with nourishment," the healer went on, tersely, giving her assistant a stern look. "You've both been in a type of stasis brought on by the spell. In your case it kept you from aging, in her case she aged rapidly, and at our estimate she is now six years older than she was when the two of you arrive. She however has yet to wake."

"Where is she?" I rasped out, suddenly quite sure of who my friend was.

Only Addi would be crazy enough to chase after me in the middle of a war, and to risk her own life to try and save my sorry hide. My chest ached at the thought that she had given so much of her life too me. Her essence must have been what saved me surely? Did she age so quickly because I was literally sucking the life from her as I healed?

"She is resting in the next bed over," healer Jones answered as she gestured to the curtain that separated the two beds. "Long term patients normally get their own rooms, but the two of you seemed to deteriorate if we kept you too far apart."

"I need to see her," I said, surprised to hear how pained my voice sounded.

The healer's face told me how unorthodox that was, but she still reached out to pull the curtain back. The lights were slightly dimmed, most likely since the room inhabitants had been sleeping for years, but I could still make out her black hair, and her sweet face. She did look older I supposed, but she still looked as innocent and beautiful as I had always thought she was. It really did look as if she were only sleeping, and I was reminded of the time I cared for her after she had nearly starved to death. Like so many times before my heart surged out to her, and thought I couldn't seem to move much, I yearned to go to her. I wanted to brush my fingers along her cheek secretly as I had done in the past.

More than that, I no longer wanted secrets between her and I. I wanted to tell her the words that I had held back when offering Lily Potter as my reason for fighting for the light. Now more than ever I wanted her to know who the real center of my world was, and I wanted to be that for her as well. She had always seemed to have compassion for me, but I wanted her to love me. Perhaps it was too late for that though, I had no idea if she would ever wake again.

* * *

Trying to wrap my mind around losing three years in what felt like the blink of an eye was nothing compared to attempting to regain proper function in my body. Atrophy was no surprise after not moving for three years, but I had come to expect a certain level of competence from St. Mungos through the work Addi and I had been doing through them, and I was thoroughly disgusted to discover they hadn't instituted any sort of physical activity regime for their comatose patients to keep atrophy at bay. Of course the more I heard the healers talk, the more I realized they had expected us to drift slowly into that great night, and the prospect of either of us actually waking up hadn't been a real option in their minds.

Sarah was assigned to putting me through my paces most often, much to my consternation and her terror. She was absolutely exasperating, and spoke far too often, but she was also malleable. It took three days of my accosting her for her to disregard any instruction from healer Jones, and begin putting Addi through the same routine as she was me, if it were a bit lax considering that Addi could not provide any sort of resistance.

Resistance was however expected from me, and it was exhausting. It was also embarrassing, not that I would ever admit it to anyone. I had cultivated an image of near inhumanity that revealed no weakness and instilled fear in those around me, and all of that had been blown away. Now I was a man that was lucky to be alive, who barely had control of his body, needed help walking to the loo, and couldn't scare his way out of a paper bag. Except Sarah, she was terrified of me.

"Just push for three more second Sir," Sarah chirped enthusiastically, only making me madder.

"Don't patronize me," I snapped in a breathy voice and I pushed my shaking legs to obey my will and hold up my body weight. "It's been 'three more seconds sir' for a good thirty seconds now."

"Leave her be Mr. Snape," healer Jones chided as she sidled into the room. "Let him sit Sarah, its time for his dinner anyway."

I collapsed gratefully onto the bed, and tried not to scowl too much when Sarah began quickly situating my limbs where she thought they should be, as if I were a broken rag doll. Anything I might have said was quickly silenced when I began to shovel the stew into my mouth. They left me too it, and I found my eyes wandering to Addi, still sleeping beside me.

Each day I kept hoping that her eyes would crack open, but she was utterly sill. She was beautiful still, even in a coma, aging more quickly than she should, and oblivious to the world moving on around her. I wanted to whisper in her ear about my feelings for her, but I'd end up dumping myself unceremoniously on the floor if I tried to walk over there now.

* * *

It took three long weeks of grueling physical therapy to whip my body back into shape, but soon enough I was sweeping around the ward with the best of them. It was slightly less impressive wearing a hospital gown, and faded grey slippers, but I had my smooth gait back at least.

When I was once again under my own power, there wasn't much question of if I needed to be kept on the ward or not. I however had questions about what was waiting for me outside of the hospital. Would I be going to Azkaban finally for the murder of Dumbledore or perhaps my war crimes during my time as headmaster? If not, did I have a home still, or a job? I needed answers before I was willing to sign my release papers. Healer Jones had summoned someone to speak with me in an effort to oust me from her ward to save the sanity of her assistant.

I was standing at the window, fighting the urge to yet again watch Addi sleep, when I heard the door to the ward open. I resisted the urge to turn immediately, and attempted to determine the mood of my unknown guest by their footsteps. Whoever it was set a brisk pace, but there was a slight shuffle every third step. I knew the second time it happened exactly who had been sent to speak with me, and I knew that I was not being arrested if Minerva McGonagall was the ambassador of my fate.

"Minerva," I said smoothly with a slight dip of the head as a turned to face her. "Have the sent you to put me in shackles?"

"You have been pardoned of all crimes," she said with a tight smile as she came to a stop ten feet from me. "The memories you shared with Harry Potter were presented as evidence in your trial."

I nodded my head in an effort to distract her from the fact that I had stopped breathing altogether. I had forgotten just how much had filtered through while I was trying to let the boy know what the last of his mission. It was bad enough that Addi thought I was still in love with Lilly Potter, did I really need the entire world believing the same thing.

"I hope my freedom was not contingent on the love I once felt for Lily Potter," I said stiffly, averting my eyes. "Those memories may have been a bit out of context considering I was bleeding out and poisoned by a massive snake."

"Only Harry Potter believes you are still somehow in love with his mother," Minerva said with an actual chuckle. "You were cleared based on the memories showing that you were only following orders, and your continued efforts to keep everyone in the order as safe as possible in the darkest of times."

"Well as long as it's still completely melodramatic," I said as sarcastically, averting my eyes once more when I saw that hers had a telltale glimmer. "I had no interest in going to prison if I am being honest."

"Would you be interested in return to another place that might have been a prison for you at times?" she asked, and I saw that she expected me to say no immediately.

I cocked an eyebrow and waited her out. I wanted her to ask me back, but I wouldn't be me if I made this easy for her.

"Horace would like this to be his last year teaching," Minerva said awkwardly. "And I'd like you to take his place as the potions master."

"I take it you are headmistress now?" I asked, making her sweat without an answer to her question.

"I am," she said with a hint of nervousness. "It was undetermined if the headmaster who held the office was going to live, so I received an unorthodox promotion."

"It should have been you to begin with Minerva," I said, surprising myself with the honesty in my voice. "Congratulations."

"Thank you Severus," she said with a watery smile. "And I'm sorry, you know, for trying to kill you."

"Multiple times," I chuckled. "I forgive you."

She looked dangerously close to tears, so I was quite grateful that she chose not to speak.

"I'd like to return to the castle," I admitted lightly. "But I have certain intentions that might make me a less than admirable candidate for you."

"What would those be?" she asked, and the tightening at the corner of her mouth revealed both her amusement and that she likely already knew what I was going to say.

"I intend to take over the care of Miss Adele Riddle, and transfer her out of St. Mungos," I answered honestly. "I imagine looking after her, and attempting to find some way to bring her out of her coma will take up quite a bit of my time."

"So long as you made it to your lessons on time, I would not have an issue with that sort of extracurricular activity," she said with a smile. "I'd like to see Miss Riddle back at the castle anyway. She's a very brave girl."

I nodded my head, finding that for the first time in many many years my throat was tightening in an effort not to cry. She was a very brave, very stupid, but very brave girl, and I owed her everything.

"I suppose you can tell Horace he is off the hook then," I told her in a thankfully unemotional voice. "I should be released within the next day or two, and if it isn't too much trouble I would like to come straight to the castle. I don't want to move A-Miss Riddle around too much in her state."

"That sounds fine." Minevera smiled. "The castle is quite different now, and there are no chambers below ground any longer. Do you have a tower preference?"

"I'd like my chambers as near to those of Slytherin as possible." I answered honestly.

"That won't be a problem," Minerva said with a sad smile. "None of the staff had been keen to take up residence in the south tower."

"I imagine everyone still sees them as death eaters don't they?" I asked, only a hint of malice present in my voice.

Minerva nodded gently.

"Well, that is the perfect place for me to live then isn't it?" I said, and I offered her a brief smile.

It had the effect I hoped for and her shock at seeing me smile wiped away her melancholy. She gave me a slight nod and began to walk back toward the door once more.

"I looked forward to your arrival at the castle," she called over her shoulder, and just like that she was gone and it was just Addi and I once more.


	13. Chapter 13

_**Song for this chapter: Sand by Damien Rice**_

* * *

**SPOV**

* * *

It was a fight to get Addi out of the hospital. They didn't want to release her to my care, as I was no family, and we were not married. I very seriously considered marrying her just to get her out of the hospital, but I didn't fancy the explosion that might happen when she discovered that she was married to me without her consent.

It was Minerva who had found the loophole for me. As Addi was still technically my apprentice I was responsible for both her education and her care, and I was able to use that angle to have her released into my care. If she awoke, I would have to see if she was still interested in continuing her apprenticeship, but that was a very big if.

MY magic was still a little weak given how long it had been since I used it, and Addi was in a delicate state, so I opted to avoid apparition in our travels back to the castle. Thankfully the hospital staff had kept the clothing we had been brought in with, and I was not forced to venture on to the knight bus in a hospital gown and those damn slippers. They had cleaned the clothing as best they could, and any blood that might have stained my black frock coat did not show. I opted not to wear the white shirt beneath it as it was no longer white.

I kept Addi's clothes in a bag slung over my back, and I allowed healer Jones to levitate Addi down to the hospital entrance for me in an effort to conserve my energies for when I would have to levitate her from Hogsmeade up to the castle. I had my wand in hand, but it wasn't lost on me that Addi's wand did not seem to be present in the bag of our things. Had it been broken? I shelved that thought for later investigation as I extended my arm and summoned the knight bus to us.

The purple beast screeched to a halt in the middle of the street in Hogsmeade sending bits of dirt spraying across the ground. I lurched forward, holding tightly to the stretcher which thankfully I had remembered to place a sticking charm on, and thus Addi hardly moved an inch. I ran the over enthusiastic attendant off with a well-placed scowl, and began to gently maneuver the stretcher out of the bus and into the street.

I was at the gate to the castle when I first began to notice the fatigue. I was physically tired, but more than that, I could feel my magic depleting rapidly. I dug my heels in, metaphorically of course, and pushed on through the gates and across the grounds. I was determined to deliver Addi safely to her new home before I collapsed with exhaustion.

"Severus, Minerva told me you'd be arriving today?" Poppy said, meeting me at the door. "I thought you might want me to evaluate Miss Riddle."

"The St. Mungos healers said it was a waiting game," I pointed out tiredly, wondering if she meant to be obvious with the supporting levitation charm or if she just lacked subtlety. "I doubt there would be much for you to evaluate."

"Well, why don't I help you get her settled in then?" Poppy pushed, and I realized it was the latter.

"Fine," I snapped. "I am in need of direction to my chambers in the south tower anyway."

* * *

My chambers were strange after spending decades in the dungeons, but they were not nearly as uncomfortable as the headmaster's chambers had been. They were light an airy instead of dark and slightly damp. It was made to feel slightly more like home by the fact that Minerva had somehow provided all of the things I had assumed lost after essentially dying three years ago.

I had shelves full of books, a chest full of potions ingredients, and all of my clothes. She had even handed over everything of Addi's that had been hidden in the secret room I had created for her, and she had the decency to refrain from blushing when she did so.

Everything had been put into its rightful place, including Addi who I had made a bedroom for rather than having an office in my chambers. It wasn't until I was setting her things in the room with her that I unpack the clothes the hospital staff had saved when they had changed her into one of their gowns. Something strange fluttered in my stomach when I pulled the light blue sweatshirt that was stained with my blood from the bag. I should have been upset by the sight of my life force on her clothing, but all I could think about was that she had been wearing my shirt when she ran through a heated battle to save me. Was it possible that he felt the same way that I did?

* * *

I had worried that I might feel strange caring for Addi on my own, but I found that I felt more comfortable when I wasn't constantly faced with the medical staff flitting in and out of the room. I was less self-conscious, and frankly Addi looked better when she wasn't washed out by the far too bright lights that had been turned on in our ward after I had awoken.

I rose early each morning and as soon as I had dressed I began putting Addi through her paces. Her face remained completely impassive, but I liked to imagine her cheeks were a little pinker after I had forced each of her muscles to move and fight off atrophy for at least one more day.

I set a charm on her to alert me of any significant change in her heart rate, and then I left for breakfast in the great hall and my first lesson of the day. Surprisingly, tending to a comatose woman was easier to adjust to than having multiple people smiling at me in the great hall. Going from villain to hero was very strange, and I'd rather hide away in my little tower caring for Addi if it was just the same.

After my first lesson I would return to my chambers to give Addi her daily dosage of a nourishing potion as well as an invigorating brew I had created specifically for her, in hopes of bringing her back from this unending sleep. Some days I would sit and talk with her for a bit, other days I would simply make my way down to the great hall to attend lunch with the rest of the castle.

I spent my afternoons teaching, or brewing for Poppy once more, and then I attended dinner with the masses. Unless I had assigned a detention, or I was due or rounds, my nights belonged to Addi. I would first run through the gamut of physical exercises that a comatose patient was capable of once more, and then I would massage all of her muscles, attempting to invigorate the blood flow. When I had finished I would embark on the least comfortable task and give her a sponge bath before dressing her in a clean gown. I would carefully wash her hair, before positioning her on her stomach while I brushed her hair. I had noticed the first time that I had bathed her, that the healers had allowed her to get a bedsore and I was adamant that never happen again.

I would never admit it to anyone, least of all Addi, but my favorite time of night was probably when I sat with her in the growing darkness and I braided her hair back into the plait I kept it in to avoid tangles developing. Once her hair was in order once more, I would carefully return her to a resting position on her back, tuck her back under the blankets, and I would read to her. I didn't know for certain if she heard anything I said, I certainly hadn't when I had been unconscious, but if she could hear I wanted her to hear things that would please her. I read aloud from all of the potion periodicals we had missed over the years, as well as books of mine that I had seen her return to on more than one occasion.

And when I had grown too tired to read I would go through my final routine. I would light a lantern near her bedside, add another blanket to her bedding, and I would leave her for the night. It would be idiotic to stay up all night, but I worried about her waking up in the dark. The light was a compromise that allowed me to feel comfortable going to bed.

My routine was set, and it carried me through my days. So long as I worked carefully through the steps I had created for myself I did not grow frustrated when yet another day came where Addi did not wake. If I kept to my routine I could not stumble into acknowledging my loneliness. The regimen kept everything in a perfect order, and it allowed me to foster a strength that had been lost in me by that last year in the war. It made me strong enough to wait, and to keep trying. It allowed me to hope.


	14. Chapter 14

_**Song for this chapter: Don't Worry by Zoe Keating**_

* * *

**APOV**

* * *

It was dark, very dark, but I had the vague impression of lightness. All of the characteristics where there. I was warm, and comfortable. There did not seem to be a real weight in my limbs. I was happy. I was quite content, and yet there was a yearning for light within me. I had a hunger for something beyond the dark.

It wasn't until I began to wish for something beyond the darkness that I began to remember how I had fallen into the darkness. With that memory came the realization that I should not be able to feel anything. I should be gone, but I wasn't. Instead I had another yearning. I wanted to press my fingers to my lips. I wanted to feel if they had changed after finally kissing the man they had been so desperate to touch. Was I different? How was I here?

My questions seemed to reach out and pry my eyes open, until suddenly I found that things were not quite so dark. I was rather certain that the room must be dark around me, but there was a soft glow creeping toward me. After some time I realized it was a lantern, and it was burning not too far from where I was lying. I tried to turn my head toward the light, but I found that my body was not cooperating with me.

My throat tightened, and I was embarrassed to realize that I was about to cry. I was relatively certain that I was alone, but I still didn't want to reveal my weakness by bursting into tears. From where I lay I could sort of make out my surroundings. I seemed to be in a room with rounded walls, and though it was dark I thought they might be made of stone. Was I in the castle? I seemed to be lying on a bed, I thought I could feel a blanket draped over me, but other than that there was nothing to suggest that I was in a bedroom. No pictures on the wall, no dresser that I could see, nothing personal. I must be in a hospital room, was it a private room? Was I at Hogwarts?

My stomach rolled as I realized what Hogwarts might mean. Had someone found us in the shack? Did they bring me here by myself? Where was Severus? I lost the ability to keep my tears at bay when it occurred to me that I might have been found by someone in the Order, and if they found me they might not have bothered to save Severus. _Oh Severus_.

I couldn't even turn my head to the side, but my body still knew how to cry. There was some movement then, and it seemed to be powered entirely by my lungs as I let go of my will and wept. It wasn't like a heroine in a film, where the crying was dainty and almost beautiful. It was rough, and loud, and very wet. I was vaguely aware that my nose had begun to run as well, but I could not left my arms to do anything about it.

I couldn't see through the barrage of tears, but I heard something slam loudly near me and forced my eyes open. It was blurry, but I could swear it was the form of Severus Snape that bolted across the room and to the side of my bed. My cries seemed to grow more high pitched when warm hands closed on my arms. The light of the lantern was blocked out as he leaned down, and my nose was filled with the sent of herbs and spices. _Severus._

"Addi are you hurt?" his velvety voice enveloped me, soothing a very deep ache.

"Severus," I cried in a broken gruff thing that certainly didn't sound like my voice.

"Shh Addi, it's okay," he soothed, and very gently he lifted me up from where I lay and wrapped me in his arms. "It's okay."

I was slumped into him, and he was rubbing my back gently. This was a position I had dreamed of being in for so long, and yet now I was here and all I could think about was how grateful that Severus was here. It didn't even matter that he was touching me, but instead that he was able to touch anyone.

"You're alive," I sighed into the black fabric beneath my face.

I let everything drain out of me, and slumped further into him as my tears slowly came back under control.

"So are you," he whispered into my hair, and his voice held such joy that I felt a few degrees warmer.

He was very gentle as he released me from his tight embrace and very carefully lay me back down. He watched me closely as I lay there, and I couldn't help but watch him too. He looked so much better than he had the last time I had laid eyes on him, but it wasn't hard to look better than a dying man. It was more than that, he looked better than he had during that entire year leading up to the battle on the grounds of Hogwarts. There was a bit of color in his cheeks, though his complexion was as sallow as it ever was.

It was the overbearing sadness that made the difference. It didn't seem to be there anymore. His eyes were as dark as ever but they seemed to have a sparkle in them now. It warmed my heart to think that the weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Perhaps nearly dying had wiped the slate clean for him.

"What day, or I suppose night, is it?" I asked.

My body had that weighted feeling that told me I had been sleeping for a while, but I couldn't be sure that the vague soreness wasn't from some unknown injury. I mean, what exactly was causing my inability to move.

"May 8th," he answered, and inexplicably his face contorted as if he were in pain.

"That's not so bad," I sighed, offering a brief smile, though my face was still a bit tight from all the crying.

"It's May 8th of 2002," he said stiffly, and I felt as if the air had been sucked out of the room.

"W-what?" I gasped, my chest rising and falling more quickly as I tried to process the news.

"It gets worse," he sighed, reaching out and clasping my hand, effectively stopping the panic attack that had been building, though he didn't seem relieved enough to have realized that. "The spell that you used was effective in bringing me back from the brink of death, but it used your life to do it. You've been asleep for four years, but you aged eight years during that time span."

"It can't have been four years," I said, completely disregarding how much I had supposedly aged. "You hardly look any older. You may even look younger, now that the weight upon your shoulders seems to have gone."

"I didn't start aging again until around Christmas it seems," he explained. "Which is when I assume you must have stopped aging to quickly. It was hard to tell while you were sleeping, but the changes did seem to be slowing down."

"Do I look much different?" I asked, vainly wishing that I could touch my face and try to imagine what it looked like.

"Not very," he smiled. "You look like you are thirty-two, which you are, and frankly I think it looks good on you."

"You're only nine years older than me now," I smiled at him. "Well ten when I have my birthday."

"Thank you for being artful instead of just pointing out that I am 43," he chuckled, and the last of my anxiety drained away in the face of his laughter.

"43 is practically an infant for a wizard," I pointed out with a chuckle. "Besides, you have your health, even if you were old that would be a plus. Look at you, moving your limbs like a champ."

He chuckled in response but the mirth quickly drained away to be replaced by guilt. That hadn't been my intention at all, but I could see how he might have taken it that way.

"Did I sustain an injury?" I asked him solemnly, figuring now was the best time to try and figure things out.

"No, it's extreme muscle weakness," he explained, his face quickly turning of a teacher as he began explaining. "I've tried working them back into shape, but as your body had essentially been completely still for six years by the time I started, the progress has been slow going. I think you should regain all function in time though. It only took a few weeks for me to return to full function, but it may take a little longer for you."

"Shall we start?" I asked eagerly, visions of turning my head filling me with excitement. "I want to see this room, and that requires being able to turn my head."

"We may start if you wish," he said, his face softening a bit. "And your reward for your hard work will be me helping you to see the entire room. Does that sound like a fair deal?"

"I hardly think I need to be bribed with a prize, I want to do this," I chided him playfully.

"You'll see," he said knowingly, and then he pulled the blankets off of me with practiced ease and lifted my left leg up off the bed and folded it back so my knee was nearly touching my chest. "Push your leg back Addi."

His arms were position so that once of them was supporting my leg so it didn't fall listlessly back to the mattress, and the other was angled so that the palm of his hand was pressed against my foot. I understood what he was asking me to do, and I understood the mechanics of pushing my foot against his hand, and extending my leg so that it was no longer bent. Understanding that, did not seem to mean that I could do it. I felt a sweat breaking out on my forehead, and my leg shook a bit, but I hardly moved his hand back by a centimeters.

"Still think you won't need a reward?" he asked with a half-smile as he placed my left leg back on the mattress and reached for my right.

"Shut it you," I panted as I tried desperately to move his hand with my right leg.

I struggled on for a few more seconds, and managed to gain a whole inch before my leg gave out completely.

"Ha," I breathed, completely winded, as he set my right leg down as well. "I always was right side dominate."

"Let's see how you do with the middle then," he said leaning forward to hoist me up off the pillow once more. "I'm going to partially release my hold on you, and I want you to try and keep from lying down."

"Ok," I said, staunchly ignoring the way my head lolled to the side without my permission.

He gripped the shoulders of my gown fairly tightly, but I felt it when he let go of his support. My spine bowed in its attempt to slump back toward the mattress. My back curved so I was creating a C because of how he was holding me up. I fought with all of my might to try and straighten it but I made no progress.

"Okay, I am going to release you a bit more," he said softly, over the sound of my panting breath. "See if you can hold it here."

He withdrew further support, and for perhaps three seconds I held the bent shape I was in, but then my back slumped further, and my head rolled forward so that my chin was resting on my chest. He seemed to think that was good enough, because he helped me to lie back down, and pulled the blanket over me and up to my mind section.

"How about some arms," he said with a far too exuberant grin, and I knew he was trying to keep me from getting upset over my inability to do what he asked me to.

"Let's do this," I said firmly, trying to sound more energetic than I felt.

* * *

Honestly, seeing the sparse bedroom hadn't been a good enough reward to merit sweating it out for a good 30 minutes only to prove I couldn't really do anything at all. It had been nice to see that my things were intact, and that the room was not nearly s barren as it had seemed when all I could do was stare up at the ceiling. But it was a room, and I felt like I had been ripped off somehow. And then I felt mortified when Severus artfully mentioned how sweaty I had gotten, and that I couldn't just go to sleep like that.

Through moaning and groaning I managed to escape a sponge bath, but then I had to suffer my own company for the rest of the night, and frankly I smelt pretty awful. I would endure my stink a thousand times over to avoid the embarrassment of Severus seeing me naked in such… pedestrian circumstance.

I'd been reprieved for the night, and allowed to fall back asleep, but when morning came I knew it wouldn't be long before the topic came up again. Instead of pushing the issue right away, he greeted me with a soft smile brandishing a bowl of cream of mushroom soup.

"They started me on chicken broth at the hospital," he explained as he positioned me in an upright position against the pillows and began to feed me. "It had no substance at all and I was still ravenous, besides I know you like mushrooms."

His choice had been right. The soup was very good, and the creamy nature gave it a bit more weight in my stomach. By the end of the bowl I actually felt full, and I was grateful for it. I was even more grateful for it when he told me it was time to try again with the physical activity. The food at least gave me a bit more energy to work with while trying to push against his resistance.

* * *

"Enough of this idiocy Addi," he snapped at me. "It's been a week, frankly you smell like death."

"It can wait until I am strong enough to sit in the tub on my own," I said petulantly.

"It is unhygienic!" he growled. "You are risking your already delicate health for some nonexistent sense of modesty!"

"Nonexistent?" I fired back, outraged. "Excuse me for wanting to maintain a bit of dignity in all of this."

"For the love of Merlin who exactly do you think was bathing you for the last nine months," he shouted, before taking a deep breath to compose himself. "I'm not going to be looking at your privates like some sort of lecher Addi. I'll keep my eyes closed entirely if that's what you want, but this insanity needs to end."

"Fine," I sighed, bringing my hands up to cover my face. "Do it."

"Just try not to think about it so much," he said quietly as he conjured up a basin of water and a wash cloth.

I closed my eyes so I wouldn't have to see it, and I let him do what he wished. I had to stifle a sigh of relief when the cloth first touched my face. He had been right of course, I felt disgusting, and now he was washing away the grime and it was magnificent. Almost magnificent enough to wash away my embarrassment. Almost.

* * *

"As much as I want to continue seeing your eyes open after all that time sleeping, I will dose you with sleeping potion if you refuse to go to bed," he snarked tiredly as he slumped down tiredly on the couch.

"I don't want to sleep," I argued, enjoying the fact that I stand on my own, even if I was dead tired. "I want to go outside, or make a potion, or do a spell. Speaking of, where is my wand?"

There was a pause, and his face became completely impassive, and I knew whatever he was about to say was going to upset me.

"It was not retrieved from the shack," he answered quietly, not meeting my eyes. "It wasn't explained, but I believe it was broken."

I nodded sadly, sinking down in the chair finally. Well that wasn't what I expected at all. A part of me was upset, but it was not as if I could not buy another was it?

"Has Ollivander gone back into business, or will I need to leave the country to obtain a new wand?" I asked him quietly.

"His shop is open," Severus offered with a brief smile. "As soon as you are able to walk around on your own for an extended period of time I'll take you shopping for a new wand."

"Can we at least go for a walk before I go to bed?" I asked, worn out enough to cave to his demand that sleep. "We could walk down to the kitchens for a mug of warm milk, which would help me fall asleep by the way."

"A sleeping potion would have the same effect," he sighed, and I realized that he must be very tired or he would not be so resistant to a little walk.

"I take a nourishment potion every day, and stimulation potions, and a vitamin potion," I rattled off. "I don't think I even have blood anymore, it's all just potion. No more! Please?"

He had grown more irritated as I spoke, but his face softened instantly when I said please. I almost believed he felt something for me when he reacted to me in that way, but I knew better. He felt responsible for me after the spell I had used, and when I had fully recuperated the niceties would end.

"A walk and a glass of milk will be fine," he relented. "But then it's straight to bed okay?"

"Deal," I agreed happily, and I hopped back out of my chair, staunchly ignoring the tremor of my legs that screamed just how tired they were.

* * *

"I'm tied up all weekend with detentions," Severus said as he sat breakfast plates on the table between us. "Because that makes it rather impossible for me to take you into Diagon Alley to purchase a new wand, I have come up with a compromise."

"What would that be," I asked, taking care not to sound disappointed about spoiled plans, and instead directing my attention to the rather delicious looking pancakes that Severus had made.

"I will turn over use of my wand to you for the next two days," he said conversationally, as if it weren't something huge. "And I will take you Monday after my last lesson to get your own."

I couldn't help but stare at him. Severus Snape was just going to hand his wand over to me? Surely not? What did that even mean?

"What if you need it?" I asked, in an embarrassingly breathy voice.

"I will be supervising dunderhead as the disembowel slugs," he huffed with humor in his eyes. "I hardly see an incident arising that would merit the need for magic."

"Aren't you uncomfortable handing over something so personal to me?" I whispered, not quite able to meet his gaze.

"I'd give you anything Addi," he said, and his voice was so reverent that I couldn't help but look up and meet hi gaze. "You deserve everything."

I felt that warmth spread through me once more, and I could almost convince myself that Severus was trying to tell me that he loved me. But I didn't need it, I was content simply accepting his gratitude for saving his life. I was hopelessly in love with him, but I could be happy with friendship, especially when he was being so warm and open with me.

"Thank you Severus," I smiled, and I began buttering my pancakes. "I promise to take great care with it."

* * *

After breakfast Severus had left to supervise the first of many detentions with one of many Gryffindors, and I sat at the table, staring at the ebony wand sitting innocuously before me. It was slightly longer than my wand had been, but it looked somehow sturdier. I had yet to touch it, but I got the impression that it would feel smooth in my hand.

I had no idea what spell I should try first. I had only just regained the majority of my physical strength, so it was likely that my magical strength would be unimpressive. Even acknowledging that, I didn't want my first spell in four years to be something as basic as a levitation charm. I had taught myself to use wandless magic during combat, I was better than first year charms. But what spell was appropriately difficult without being overly taxing?

_Aguamenti_!

It was difficult because you were conjuring an element from nothing, but it didn't take a great deal of effort as far as I could remember. I took a deep breath, gathering my courage and chasing away my nerves, and I reached out to take his wand in my hand.

I had built up what the experience would be in my head, so I was surprisingly disappointed that I didn't actually feel anything when I took his wand in my hand. There wasn't a sense of recognition like I wanted there to be because of how I felt about him. There wasn't a gentle warming, like I felt when I used to take my own wand into my hand. There wasn't even a bite like I had felt back in my third year when I had mindlessly picked up a fellow Slytherin's wand form the floor in the common room.

"Aguamenti," I said quietly as I waved his wand over my cup.

Absolutely nothing happened.

Was it possible that my magic was still too weak? That seemed unrealistic to me. I was fairly sure I could run if I tried it, so I couldn't believe that my magic would be that weak at this stage in my recovery. Had I somehow gotten the wand movement wrong?

"Aguamenti," I said again, paying particular attention to the flick of my wrist of and swish of the wand.

Still there was nothing.

Maybe it really was too difficult of a spell as my first one. I swallowed my pride and direct the wand at the cup once more.

"Wingardium Leviosa," I said forcefully, brandishing the wand at the glass once more.

No tremor, no slight movement, nothing. I cast again and again but nothing happened. It was only remembering at the last second that it wasn't my wand that kept me from chucking it across the room. I set the wand down very gently on the table, and retracted my shaking hand carefully before I kicked my chair back and growling in frustration.

I would have liked to threw an absolute fit, I was just that angry, but I knew there wasn't any point to it. I would just tire myself out, and then I certainly wouldn't be able to cast any sort of spell. I would wait for Severus, and we would sort this out. I must be doing something wrong. I left the wand sitting on the table and went to stare out of the window until my anger had calmed.

* * *

"Have you tired yet?" he asked with a quirked brow when he returned to his chambers as saw his wand sitting on the table.

"I need you to do me a favor," I said as calmly as I could manage from my position in front of the window.

"What do you need?" he asked, and I actually ached to hear how dedicated he sounded.

"I need you to cast animas illustras on me," I said, turning away from the window to look at him, keeping my face devoid of emotion.

'"Why?" he questioned, though he did pick his wand up off of the table.

"I think you know," I said quietly. "Will you do this for me please?"

"Of course Addi," he said somberly, and he turned his wand on me. "Animas illustras."

His swept his wand back and forth over me, and I waited to feel his magic settle upon me. I thought perhaps I felt a tingle, but there was nothing dramatic like I expected. More than that my chakras which in the best case should have lit up in their corresponding colors, and in their worst case they should have at least been illuminated in pale white, but there was no light at all. My legs gave way beneath me and I sunk onto the window sill.

"Well that simplifies things I guess," I heard myself say, though I couldn't seem to feel my lips moving.

"It's possible that I cast it wrong," he said softly. "Let me try again."

"No Severus," I sighed tiredly, closing my eyes against the threat of tears. "It's bitter sweet justice isn't it?"

"Of course it isn't Addi, what are you talking about?" he said.

"How many people have I taken magic from?" I asked. "It's only fair that I lose my magic too."

"It could be temporary, let's not get worked up just yet," he said quietly.

I tugged at my hair leaning back against the wall as I tried to swallow a frustrated scream in the back of my throat.

"It will be, I know it," I said finally in a tired voice. "I can't feel the magic anywhere within me."

He looked at me with sad eyes, and I knew that he wanted to say that I didn't need magic. I was thankful that he said nothing, I didn't need platitudes right now. What I really needed was a good cry, but I wasn't going to give in to that in front of him. I sighed, and tried to release all of the overwhelming emotions from within my chest.

"I think I am going to go to bed," I told Severus quietly, and then I walked out of the room.

I couldn't talk to him right now, I cared to badly about what he thought and my own thoughts were to hard to bear his would be too much.


	15. Chapter 15

_**Songs for this chapter: Into the Ocean by Blue October and Where Does the Good Go by Teagan Sara**_

* * *

The answer, albeit not a satisfying solution came to me when I had awoken in the morning. I kept the thoughts at bay in my mind, trying to tell myself that I didn't mean it, but as I went for a walk throughout the castle seeing the students preparing for their exams I knew I meant it. I felt so… separate. Apart. Alone. All of these people were brimming over with their magic, a vessel so full that it could not hold its contents within. And I was an empty receptacle. I did not belong.

I was now a muggle, and trying to delude myself into thinking it acceptable to remain at Hogwarts was idiotic. Not to mention depressing. I was still sounding out the word muggle in my head when I returned the south tower chambers and found Severus sitting in the chair nearest the window with a book in hand.

"Don't you have an exam to proctor right now?" I ask him as I sunk down onto the couch.

The muscle in my thigh was jumping from overexertion, but I tried to ignore it as I met his surprised gaze.

"That finished nearly an hour ago," he explained. "You've been walking for a very long time. How are you feeling?"

"A little tired I suppose," I admitted. "But I'd say I'm nearly back at 100 percent now."

"I'm very proud of you, it only took you a month," he said, and then he gifted me with a genuine smile, that almost warmed my heart enough to melt the icy sadness away.

"Thank you," I said with a deferent nod of the head. "I think it's a sign that I am ready."

"Ready for what?" he questioned, his brow inching toward his hairline.

"To leave Hogwarts," I sighed, letting my eyes drop to my hands folded in my lap. "To go back to my people. I need to find a job in the muggle world, and start establishing a life for myself."

"Don't be absurd," he snipped. "You are not a muggle."

"I am a woman without magic," I countered. "I am a muggle woman Severus."

"At worst you are squib, you certainly aren't a muggle," he argued. "And even without magic, there is no requirement that you return to the muggle world. There are plenty of jobs in the wizarding world that would never require you to lift a wand."

"Staying in the wizarding world means having magic shoved in my face at every corner," I said, the pitch of my voice rising as I became more upset. "I should not have to subject myself to that."

"Who exactly are you expecting to taunt you with the use of magic," he groused. "The only person you interact with on a regular basis is me, and I have not so much as touched my wand in your presence!"

"I am not going to simply hide away in your tower for the rest of my life Severus," I snapped back. "And when I venture out into the world I will be faced with this problem every day. Unless I return to the muggle world."

"You don't have to face it," he said quietly. "Not if you don't want to. I will take care of you Addi."

"I am not saying that you couldn't," I sighed. "I am saying that you shouldn't have to."

"I don't want you to leave," he said in a nearly inaudible voice, and I knew it pained him to admit it.

Did I make him feel weak? I felt awfully weak myself at the moment, but I didn't want to bring him down to my level.

"Maybe we should revisit this later," I sighed. "I am very tired."

And like I had done many times before it seemed, I swept out of the room before he could say anything else. I did not feel as if the conversation had brought any sort of resolution. A deeper weight seemed to have settled into my chest, and I was suddenly much more tired than I had been. Sleeping seemed like the best recourse, as well as the easiest escape.

* * *

By the time I woke in the morning I had resolved to do something horrible. I was going to leave, and I was going to do so without letting Severus know what was happening. If I talked to him about it, we were just going to fight again, and it physically hurt me to fight with him. I knew that the causes must be psychological because of I felt about him, but I actually ached inside when we fought, and I couldn't bring myself to endure it again.

So I waited until I heard him leave to go proctor his last exam, and then I set to work. I didn't have much to gather, but I didn't want to leave the important things behind. I grabbed my duffel and packed the book that Severus had given me as well as the perfume. I packed all of my clothes, and what little money I had left from when I was being paid to brew wolfsbane. I was attached to the cauldron with my name on it, but I knew that I would be upset each time that I saw it, so I left it sitting on my bed for Severus to keep.

I allowed myself on sentimental glance around the chambers, and then I shut myself off emotionally and walked out of the room with a purpose. All of the students were in their exams, and the professors examining them, so I met no one in the hallway. It seemed fitting that the halls be empty as I made my final exit, and yet it made me incredibly sad.

As I crossed the grounds I seriously considered just going back. I didn't want to try and build a life that didn't include Severus and each step seemed to break my heart a little bit more. But more than that I couldn't stay somewhere that I didn't belong, it would hurt too much. Frankly it seemed a fitting punishment after creating a weapon of mass destruction and unleashing it on several people.

I spared one glance back at the castle as I crossed through the gates, and I tried to fossilizes the image in my mind. I wanted to remember how the sun glinted off of the roof tiles, and the smell of the grass on a bright summer day. In my mind I recreated the image so that Severus was standing beside the lake with one of his special smiles on his face, and I held on to that image when the incredible sadness began to set in.

"Excuse me," I said to a wizard that was passing by, likely on his way down to the Three Broomsticks.

"Can I help you?" he said with a soft smile.

"I've broken my wand, and I need to get into Diagon Alley to purchase a new one," I said weaving the truth into my lie. "I was wondering if you could help me by calling the knight bus for me."

"Why not apparate?" he asked kindly, though he drew his wand, and extended his arm correctly.

"Makes me ill," I said loudly over the crack of the bus appearing. "Thank you so much for your help."

"My pleasure miss," he nodded, and walked away.

I climbed onto the bus, nodding to the tottering old driver.

"London please," I instructed as I handed over my fair.

* * *

Once in London I had my wizarding money converted into muggle money, and then I had gone in search of a job. Luck had been on my side, and I had been hired to the first open position I found. I was now Adele Riddle, flight attendant. Though I was still technically homeless, I didn't really notice.

I flew around the world regularly, and when I wasn't working I slept in hotels. All of my belongings in the world fit into the carry-on suitcase that I brought with me to work each day, so I didn't need much. I was paid well enough to afford the hotels I stayed in without wanting for food or anything of that sort, so in a way I was happy.

So long as I kept busy with work I didn't think about Severus too often, and I could almost convince myself that I didn't miss him. It was during the red eye flights, when the passengers were sleeping and I didn't have anyone to care for that I was in real trouble. During the night flights I yearned for him, but I tried to focus my mind on whatever task I could find so I would not cry.

I suppose that I should have been lonely, but I had never been one to surround myself with a gaggle of friends, so I felt no real difference now. I got on well enough with my fellow flight attendants, and I liked a few of the pilots that I worked for. That was going to have to be good enough for me. If I didn't think about it too much, I wasn't upset that I wasn't using my medical knowledge, or reaching toward the potential I had been sure I possessed while brewing potions. If I kept from thinking too hard I could convince myself that my job served a real purpose and that I still mattered.


	16. Chapter 16

_**Song for this chapter: When You Were Young by The Killers**_

* * *

I was throwing myself into my work, attempting to hide from the heartache that I could feel slowly devouring me from the inside out. I was desperate for someone to distract me from it, but there was no one, and so instead I took on more flights. I began working unrealistic hours because I could not stand a break in my distractions.

I began taking on international flights with more frequency, simply because the round trip was so long that I could guarantee a full 24 hours of distraction save for the hour or two I napped between flights in order to be allowed to work once more.

"I'm sorry Adele, but the pilot says you can't go out on this flight," the boarding agent told me with a sad smile as I approached the desk.

"Did he tell you why?" I asked with an arched brow, attempting to reign in my frustration before she realized I was upset.

"He needs a well-rested staff," she said, leaning forward to keep our conversation confidential. "There are a few VIP clients taking this flight and Wiggins needs to make the right impression with them."

"This flight is leaving from Manchester, the 'VIPs' cannot be very high up on the food chain or they'd be flying out of Heathrow," I snipped before reeling in my temper once more. "I am perfectly well rested and ready to staff a three hour flight."

"I'm sorry, I'm following the pilot's orders," she said with a shrug. "Why not grab a few more hours of rest, and join the flight to Majorca later tonight?"

"Fine," I sighed, backing away from the counter.

I pulled my wheeled suitcase behind me, beating a rapid staccato on the tile floor with my heels as I marched angrily away. I had never been refused a flight before, and I was pissed about it. Who cares about some stupid VIP, I need a freaking distraction. The longer I went without a flight the worse it got, and I was on the verge of losing it. I could swear that I man just down the walkway even looked like Severus, if that wasn't a sign that I needed more work I didn't know what was.

I was debating if I should attempt to get another hotel room, or if I should just wait out the break in the airport when I nearly crashed into the man dressed in black. I teetered to the side, nearly breaking a heel in my effort not to hit him. I gripped my suitcase with one hand, and the railing along the wall with the other, half bent over, staring at his shoes.

Black boots. My heart ached for black boots, but I staunchly ignored them, allowing my eyes to travel up the black slacks the man wore. I wished for a frock coat to break them up, but this man was wearing a plain brown blazer, like any muggle would. My eyes followed the path of the buttons on his navy blue shirt, and inexplicably my heart rate increased. Was I attracted to this man?

I dismissed the idea, and drew my eyes higher, but my lungs froze in my chest when I saw two tear shaped scars on his throat. Surely not! Was I hallucinating now? I snapped my eyes up, and they met dark eyes set in a familiar face, curtained by shinning black hair. The air rushed out of my lungs as if something had settled upon my chest, and I felt as if I were going to cry.

"A flight attendant Addi?" he said with a soft smirk that tugged at my heart. "If you wanted to fly all you had to do was ask me."

I tried to laugh at his joke, but against my will my body betrayed me and I began to cry. I leaned over, clutching my thighs through the material of my dress as I tried to pull air back into my lungs.

"Don't cry," he said softly, reaching out to touch my shoulder, and kneeling down so his head was level with mine.

"Oh Severus," I sobbed, leaning forward so my head rested on his shoulder before slumping down to rest on my knees, paying no heed to the fact that we were in the middle of the airport and people were likely watching us. "You must be terribly angry with me."

"I admit that I do not understand why you ran from me," he sighed, wrapping his arms around me, and holding me tightly against his chest in exactly the way I wanted him too. "But I am not angry. Honestly I am relieved to have found you. I couldn't find your address at all, so I started looking for your place of work instead. It took longer than I expected."

"I don't have an address," I half laughed half choked into his shoulder. "I've been working constantly for a distraction, but they've refused me a flight today. Apparently I don't sleep enough."

"No you never do seem to sleep enough do you?" he whispered into my hair, and I felt it when he breathed in my scent.

It tore at my chest because I wanted to believe that it meant something, but it was likely he was simply breathing like any other person would do. This was going to be so much worse when he returned to Hogwarts, I was so desperate for him now and his presence only made it worse.

"You never seemed to have trouble sleeping in the castle," he said lightly, his fingers tangling themselves up in my hair, holding me tighter instead of releasing me from his hug.

"That's because you were there," I admitted, glad he couldn't see the color rise in my cheeks from his position.

He seemed to stop breathing for a second, and I feared that I had admitted too much. I tried to prepare myself for the moment that he withdrew, but I still ached, when he pulled out of the hug and held me at an arm's length staring into my eyes, his own sparkling with some emotion that I couldn't place.

"Come back," he implored me, and his face was so earnest that it floored me.

"There's nothing to come back to," I said, my voice cracking. "I'm still not a witch Severus."

"Come back for this Addi," he said pointedly.

And then his hand was tangled in my hair and his lips were pressing against mine. My heart took off at a sprint as I responded to him, allowing my lips to move against his. God how long had I wanted this? I moaned, embarrassing myself, and the strength seemed to drain from my limbs as I turned to liquid in his arms.

"Am I dreaming?" I breathed when he released me.

"If either of us is dreaming it would be me," he whispered against my skin before kissing my forehead. "You've no idea how long I've wanted to do that."

"Why didn't you?" I gasped. "I've wanted you for years, but I didn't think you even noticed me."

"Perhaps you should have been more forward then," he chuckled, before stealing a quick kiss. "If I'd realized that I wouldn't be rejected I'd have kissed you much sooner."

"You didn't fear rejection today?" I asked, sitting back on my heels so I could see his face.

"Of course I thought you'd reject me," he scoffed. "I just didn't care anymore. After you left, it was all I could think about. Why hadn't I done it sooner, why hadn't I told you how I felt? Honestly being a consummate Slytherin might actually be a bad thing in this case."

"Shut up," I laughed, and then I twisted my fingers up in his hair and reclaimed his lips

"Are you really going to stay and work as a flight attendant?" he asked breathlessly when we broke apart once again.

"Do you promise to take me flying?" I asked with a shy smile.

He nodded eagerly, and finally I could name the emotion in his eyes. Hope.

"I believe I have a resignation to tender then," I smiled. "Let me go change out of this uniform."

I patted his arm when he didn't let go of my waist, and he sighed reluctantly but he did release me. I hoisted myself up and pulled my carry-on suitcase off to the bathroom with me. I made quick work of trading my blue dress, and scarf, for jean, a tank top, and my favorite tan jacket. I decided to keep the heels on, I liked that they made me nearly as tall as him. I pulled off my hat, and straightened my hair in the mirror before folding my uniform and preparing to turn it in. The polite thing to do would be to have it laundered first, but if I was going to return to Hogwarts with Severus I wasn't likely to get another opportunity to turn it in.

"Do you want to come with me to do this, or do you want me to meet you somewhere when I am done?" I asked him as I stepped back out of the bathroom and found him waiting for me.

"I'll walk with you," he said with a soft smile, and then he fell into step behind me as I made my way to the security office.

"Oscar," I nodded as I approached the door.

The clearly bored security guard nodded his head at me, and looked pointedly at Severus. His look clearly said that he could not proceed into the office, but Luckily Severus seemed to gather that, and I didn't have to say anything. He stopped and offered me brief smile as I continued on into the office.

"Michael, is the HR head in today?" I asked.

"No Adele," he said his eyes going instantly to the bundle of clothing in my hands. "Can I do something for you?"

"I need to turn in my resignation," I said calmly as I set my uniform on the table between us. "I probably should have given notice, but I'm not going to be able to. My final check can be sent through direct deposit, so they don't need to worry about mailing anything to me."

"Is this because O'Neil wouldn't let you work the flight?" he asked, and I had to stifle my annoyance that word had travelled so quickly.

"No," I sighed. "I've never really been happy here, and an opportunity presented itself in Scotland, and I only had a short window to accept the offer."

It was clinical, and partially untruthful, but I couldn't really say that a man I was in love with had swept in and kissed me senseless. I fished my identification badge out of my bag and set it on top of my uniform before offering him a brief smile.

"I am actually quite sorry," I sighed as I backed away from the table. "I hope you'll pass that along."

He gave me a curt nod, and I knew I wouldn't be hearing anything else from him. He was upset with me, and the boss was going to be upset with me, but I'd take it in trade for a relationship with Severus. Perhaps I was setting a bad precedent, walking away from a job for a man, but I'd been waiting for this man for a very long time and I wasn't about to give up an opportunity like that. I didn't spare Oscar another glance as I walked purposefully out of the room, and rejoined Severus in the lobby.

"Let me take that for you," Severus said as he reached out and plucked the handle of my bag from my hand.

He efficiently pushed the handle pack into the bag, and threw the strap over his shoulder as he kept step with me as I made my way quickly out of the airport.

"Where are we apparating from?" I asked him as we stepped out into the bay where taxis and buses shuttled people away.

"We aren't, it's August," he explained as he stuck his arm out and hailed a taxi down for us. "We're going to my house here in Manchester."

"You live here in Manchester?" I asked utterly surprised.

"Yes," he said as he opened the taxi door for me, before focusing his attention on the cab driver. "Spinner's End sir."

He slid in beside me, and as soon as the door had clicked shut we were off. I took advantage of the moment and slid my hand over his, and tangled our fingers together. I looked up at him and saw that he was smiling at our hands. He gave my fingers a gentle squeeze, and turned his eyes to the window to watch our progress.


	17. Chapter 17

_**Song for this chapter: Fall For You by Secondhand Serenade**_

* * *

"Frankly," Severus said as he ushered me into his dark house. "I'd like to do elicit things to you now that I know you'd enjoy them, but you look like you haven't eaten a solid meal in several days, so I think it's best we have a bit of dinner."

My face flamed red as thoughts of what he may or may not do to me flitted through my mind, but my stomach answered him before I could, grumbling out its agreement that food was in order.

"My customers love the waif look," I chuckled as I followed him through the house into a cramped kitchen. "Besides, not a lot of restaurants available a mile up in the sky."

"There are when you land," he pointed out as he began pulling what looked to be ingredients for French toast out. "Not eating, not sleeping, where you doing anything to take care of yourself this summer?"

"I was busy pining," I pouted, slumping down into a chair at the table. "Are you going to lecture me for very long Severus?"

"I don't want to lecture you at all," he answered honestly, turning his back on what he was doing to face me. "But I don't like seeing you look like you might pass out if you stay on your feet for too long. It reminds me of a time when you really were starving to death…"

"Severus it's not as bad as that was," I said softly, reaching out to snag a bit of fruit from the bowl in the middle of the table and offering him a smile as I popped a grape into my mouth.

"I don't understand why you let it get like this," he said quietly, turning back to the counter and setting to work again. "You were the one that left."

"I left the wizarding world," I pointed out breathlessly, dropping my gaze to the table. "That didn't mean that I was happy to leave you behind. I've missed you every day since I left."

"You have no idea," he growled, abandoning the food on the counter, and nearly coming over the table in his haste to get to me.

Apparently he'd given up on the idea of French toast as he was entirely focused attacking my lips once more. He pulled me bodily from the chair, and pressed his entire body against mine as he lay me out on the kitchen floor and gave in to his desires. I certainly wasn't fighting him on any of it.

* * *

"Do I get to eat now?" I asked him as I hoisted my jeans back on with a chuckle.

"Well you've allowed me to ravage you on my kitchen floor," he smiled as he nuzzled my neck. "I think you're entitled to just about whatever you want."

"I've imagined my deflowering happening many ways, but I hadn't considered the merit of the kitchen floor until today," I mused as I ran my fingers through his messy hair. "I'd like my French toast now though please."

"You hadn't…" he questioned, pulling back to meet my gaze. "But there wasn't… Did I hurt you?"

"No Severus," I said quickly, cutting off that worry before it could settle within him, and hoisting myself up off the floor. "That particular barrier was broken a long time ago during one of the many fights I got into learning to brawl with the best of them. There was nothing for you to injure Severus."

"Still, Addi why didn't you say something?" he questioned, standing up and wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling my back against his chest. "I'd hardly have taken you on the kitchen floor if I knew it were your first time."

"Would there have been flowers and chocolates, and candle light if I had told you?" I asked him with a chuckle, leaning my head back against his shoulder. "I liked it this way, don't try to change it. Please?"

"Okay," he agreed easily, kissing my hair before releasing me and returning to his work at the counter. "I believe the lady asked for French toast."

* * *

I discovered two things during the summer spend with Severus at Spinner's End. The first was that while I had known I was in love with Severus for years now, Severus really did love me back. The second was that more than loving Severus, I was devoted to him. I would do anything for him, I loved him so much. So when he asked if I would return to the castle with him at the end of the month it wasn't a difficult question to answer. I would face the world of magic so long as he was at my side.

He had gone ahead to the castle while I showered, so he could deliver our things to our chambers. So now I was sitting in the living room, picking at nonexistent lint on my skirt, waiting for him to return. My head snapped up when I heard a crack outside the front door, and I smiled that he was the same old Severus making a point not to surprise me with magic.

"Addi, I don't know how you expect me to focus on apparating us to Hogwarts when you dress like that," he smirked as he sidled into the living room.

"What, this is conservative, I mean that was the goal, aren't we going to see Minerva today?" I said looking down at my brown skirt, white blouse and jacket. "Too low cut? Should I change?"

"Oh you're perfectly presentable," he laughed as he swept me up into his arms. "You just cut a striking figure, and your hair is begging to have my fingers buried in it. Minerva rescheduled with us anyway. I want to show you something instead."

"Okay," I smiled, nuzzling his chest. "Apparate away."

He pulled me a little tighter against his chest and then we turned to the side and the pressure set in as we moved through space leaving Spinner's End behind. I let go of my hold on him when I felt solid ground beneath my feet once more, but he kept his hold on me.

"I believe you wanted to fly," he said with a chuckle as he bent to sweep my legs out from under me and pull me into his arms bridal style.

"I take it we won't be using a broom." I chuckled as he started walking forward quickly.

There was a beat of silence where he was focused on what he was doing, but then he launched us into the air, and we were flying, and I had to stifle a squeal of excitement, as I gripped his neck more tightly.

"Come now, do you think you could sit astride a broom in that skirt," he laughed as he wrapped his arms more securely around me so I could not slip.

"Am I too heavy for you?" I asked, my eyes looking around frantically at how far away the ground was. "You aren't going to drop me right?"

"Relax Addi," he chuckled. "You are safe. Just enjoy the ride."

I took him at his word that I was safe, and watched the ground slip by beneath us as he flew us to the open window in the south tower. It occurred to me as we drifted into the open window and landed in our living room that I should have noticed before how very large the windows in the castle were.

"That was kind of amazing," I breathed as he sat me down. "Thank you."

"I'm not done with you yet," he said clasping my hand and tugging me toward the door that had led to my bedroom not long ago. "I have a proposition for you."

"Oh do you?" I asked quirking my brow at him as he pushed the door open.

I followed him in, only to discover that it wasn't a bedroom anymore, it was a lab. It was almost a carbon copy of the lab down in the dungeons, except that there was what appeared to be a regular chemistry work bench as well.

"Well this is not at all what I expected," I said as I hurried forward to get a closer look at the Bunsen burner and completely new set of vials and beakers. "Do you know how to do chemistry?"

"I know some," he said with a nod. "But I thought you might like to learn more. We may even be able to find crossovers between potions and muggle medicine."

"That is a very good proposition," I beamed looking at him as warmth blossomed in my chest.

I hadn't felt scientific excitement in several years now, but it was back with a vengeance. I could keep researching medical cures! Why had I never thought of this?

"I had hoped you would like it," he said in a deep voice as he came to stand behind me and watch me investigate the new tools.

Beside the glass beakers there was a wooden box. It was about the size of a deck of cards, except that it looked to be about four inches deep rather than half an inch. I ran my fingers over it, wondering what could be stored inside. I popped the top off, and was confused to discover that there was another box sitting inside of it.

"This is my other proposition," he whispered into my ear as he plucked the box out and I saw that it was black velvet.

He flicked the box open revealing a ring to me and I heard myself gasp as I stared at it. I had never dared to dream that Severus would want this. My heart raced in my chest, and my eye burned with the threat of tears.

"Yes," I whispered, reaching out to run my fingers over the diamond in the ring.

"You really want to?" he asked, and he sounded so vulnerable that it melted something inside of me.

"Of course Severus," I beamed, spinning around in his arms so I could plaster his face with kisses.

"You don't have to be a Riddle anymore Addi," he whispered into my hair.

And just like that, a deep ache that had been present for so many years I didn't even notice it anymore melted away. I felt free, and weightless, and so very happy. This was magic enough for me.

* * *

**Well there you go folks. I realize the ending is a little abrupt, but for those of you who didn't know this story is a retelling of a dream that I had, so the ending was always going to be a bit abrupt. The proposal happened right before my alarm went off and I had to leave my little dream would with Severus Snape and rejoin the real world where they expect you to go to work and all sorts of unfun things.**


End file.
